Hail to the Chief
by Erin T. Aardvark
Summary: How far is Big D willing to go for one agent?
1. Dream a Little Nightmare

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: This idea came to me from a computer game called "Lost in the City." It was developed by Elephant Games. This is also going to be one of my "heavier" stories, if you know what I mean. As always, The Impossibles and Big D belong to Hanna-Barbera. Some locations throughout the story belong to "Lost in the City." Everything else is mine. And just to drive the point across, in case you haven't figured it out. ALL the Impossibles' family situations are ones I made up.

* * *

_

It was quiet. _Too_ quiet. Big D wandered along the streets of the deserted city, trying to figure out how he got there and what he was doing there. It was also snowing, which Big D found to be odd, considering it was the middle of July and Megatropolis was in the middle of a record heat wave.

But somehow, Big D knew he wasn't in Megatropolis anymore. All of a sudden, he heard gunshots ringing through the air, interrupting the deafening silence. Screams of terror followed, and more shots were fired. Big D started running to the source. Suddenly, he saw a figure taking shape before him. He couldn't make it out at first, but slowly, it came into view. It was Fluey, just standing there, staring at . . . . . no, it was more like he was staring _through_ Big D. Fluey then slowly tried to reach for the chief. Big D started running faster, but it seemed he was moving in slow motion. The minute Big D got close, a gunshot rang out, and Fluey vanished. The next thing Big D knew, he was in the lobby of the Secret Security Headquarters, and it had looked like a massacre had taken place. Several agents were sprawled out on the floor, and blood was everywhere. Doing his best to stay calm, Big D began assessing the situation. What in the world happened?

As Big D investigated the room, he came across Multi, Coiley, and Skittles, laying on the floor in a pool of blood. Once he saw that terrifying sight, Big D found he couldn't remain calm. It would appear two of his top agents (three if you include Skittles) had been shot dead. Evil laughter was heard next, echoing all around the chief, and he found himself in that strange city again. Big D ran straight for one of the old, crumbling buildings, until an orb floating in midair flew into his face. In the orb, Big D saw three figures. One was Fluey, and he was tied to a chair. Big D didn't recognize the other two, but one was a man and the other a woman, and they were standing on either side of Fluey. The man was pointing a gun at him, and the woman was holding a knife right above him. The scene in the orb shifted to another seemingly empty room, with the exception of a coffin. Big D also saw himself in the orb, approaching the coffin with a crowbar. He pried the lid off the coffin, and inside was Fluey, laying unconscious. The scene froze for a moment or so. Big D wanted to look away, but he found he couldn't. The scene shifted once more. A large explosion was taking place, and all that was left of whatever this was, was a gigantic mushroom cloud. Finally, the scene shifted again to what appeared to be a cave. Big D once again saw himself, laying on the floor. Fluey was there as well, clinging to the chief, and in hysterics, screaming incoherently. Big D appeared to be asleep, except he wasn't asleep. Upon looking at his image in the orb, Big D realized he was . . . . . . .

Suddenly, Big D sat bolt upright, and took a few deep breaths. He looked around his surroundings, and found he was in his own bedroom in his home. He looked at his clock, and found it was only two in the morning. It was all just a nightmare, but that thought didn't set Big D's mind at ease. He had been having that same dream for the past three nights, and he couldn't understand it. What did it mean?

Big D then got up, threw on his bathrobe, and left his room. He walked down the hall, opened one of the doors slowly, and looked in. To his relief, he found Fluey sleeping peacefully, sprawled out on his back, with his arm hanging over the side of the bed. Big D walked further into the room, carefully lifted his grandson's hand, and placed it on his chest. Then he stroked the sleeping teenager's hair for a moment, and left the room.

By seven thirty, both Phyllis and Fluey were up, and in the kitchen. Phyllis was plugging in the coffee pot on the counter.

"Where's the chief?" Fluey asked, walking into the room.

"He left already," Phyllis said. "He left a note on the table. It said he had to talk to Dr. Phelps."

Fluey nodded, and started going through the newspaper for the comics section.

Meanwhile, Big D was over at the Secret Security Headquarters building with the facility's chief medical officer, Dr. Isaac Phelps.

"Run that by me again, chief," Dr. Phelps said. "You want to know about _what_?!"

"Recurring dreams," Big D said. "What do you know about them?"

"Not much. I'm a physician. Not a psychiatrist. All I know about them is they can represent a psychological disturbance, a lot of times a long-standing problem."

"I see . . . . ."

"Incidentally, chief, why do you ask? Is Fluey dealing with a recurring dream? I know he's prone to nightmares and all . . . . ."

"No, I was just curious, Phelps, that's all."

"You might want to talk to Danalleah. She might know more than I do."

"Ah yes. Our resident expert on the supernatural. I should have thought of her in the first place."

And with that, Big D left Dr. Phelps's office. Not once did Dr. Phelps suspect it was Big D himself having a recurring nightmare. And Big D knew he'd never hear the end of it if the agency found this out. They viewed him as a rock. Very few people have actually seen Big D lose control, and have a panic attack on the job before, and he intended to keep it that way.

A few hours later, Big D called Danalleah into his office.

"You wanted to see me, chief?" she asked.

"I did," Big D said. "Have a seat. I need to ask you something. What do you know about recurring dreams?"

"Recurring dreams? That's . . . . . kind of weird coming from you, chief."

"Yes, I'm aware of it. But do you know anything about them?"

"Well . . . . . I know they can be triggered by certain situations. They might be highlighting a personal weakness, or fear, or the inability to cope with something in life. Actually, I think that's part of the reason Fluey's so prone to nightmares, especially those nightmares he had right after the Manikatti incident."

"Yes, I'm are of that. But what I would really like to know is could a recurring nightmare be some sort of . . . . . omen?"

"An _o_men?!"

Danalleah looked at Big D as if he were crazy.

"Let me put it another way, Miss Critch," Big D said, after seeing the shocked look on Danalleah's face. "Do you know anything at all about dream interpretation?"

"A little bit," Danalleah said. "Is there anything specific you need to know?"

"No. I just need to know if a recurring dream could be an omen."

"Well . . . . it's possible. That's about all I can tell you."

"I see. Thank you very much, Miss Critch. I'll call you if I need any more information."

Danalleah nodded, and left the chief's office, feeling a bit confused. Why did he want to know so much about this subject, anyway?

The day wore on, and things were pretty normal around HQ. Big D was going through some paperwork when he heard something going on outside.

"Wait a minute!" he heard Phyllis shouted. "You can't go in there without an appointment!"

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a man ran in, slamming the door behind him, and pressing himself against it. He was tall and thin, with long, dark hair. He wore a black overcoat, blue jeans, and a T-shirt. Big D was not very happy with the intrusion.

"PLEASE!" the stranger screamed. He had a Russian accent. "You must help me, comrade! I am in HUGE trouble!"

"I'd say so," Big D said, glaring at this strange man. "What is the meaning of barging into my office like this?!"

"I tried to stop him, sir!" Phyllis shouted from the outer office. Big D could hear her trying to open the door.

"You have to help me!" the Russian shouted. "If they find me, they vill _kill_ me!"

"Who's they?" Big D asked. "And who _are_ you?"

"My name is Vladimir. I vas hired by organization to bring them sphere."

"What kind of sphere?"

"Here, I have it vith me."

Vladimir opened his coat, and took a crystal ball out of it. He put it on Big D's desk. Big D looked at it intently. It looked like that weird orb from his dream.

"Please, you must destroy this sphere," Vladimir said. "I can not tell you the reason now. The Russian Underground my be followink me!"

"The Russian Underground?" Big D repeated. "What in the world is that?"

"I can't tell you now," Vladimir said. "But I have defected from them. I vill talk more about it tomorrow. Meet me at that French cafe downtown at noon. From there, ve vill go someplace private. And believe me, I am not tryink to trick you."

"Very well, then," Big D said, suspiciously. He was going to arrange for a few of the agents to follow him out, just in case.

Vladimir then ran out the door (nearly hitting Phyllis with it), and raced out of the building as fast as he could. Big D looked at the sphere. It didn't look like much, that was for sure. Big D walked across his office, and moved a picture off the wall. Behind the picture was a safe. Big D unlocked it, and put the sphere inside for the time being. Only Big D knew about this safe. Nobody else in the entire agency did. Once the sphere was locked up, Big D put the picture back on the wall, he left his office, and went over to Phyllis's desk.

"Phyllis, have you ever heard of the Russian Underground?" he asked.

"No, sir, I haven't," Phyllis said.

"Dig up whatever information you can about them before noon tomorrow," Big D said.

"Yes, sir," Phyllis said, and she immediately went over to the filing cabinet. Big D went back into his office, and began to prepare for his meeting with this Vladimir person. Even though Vladimir had said he wasn't trying to trick him, Big D was still suspicious.


	2. The Russian Underground

Elsewhere, in the old warehouse district of Megatropolis, which has long since been abandoned, a meeting was taking place. It was a meeting of the criminal organization, the Russian Underground. Their leader, a tall, thin man, possibly in his late twenties, known only as Dimetri, was pacing the room, checking his watch every few seconds.

"Vhere _is_ he?!" he shouted, impatiently.

"He'll be here," one of Dimetri's henchmen said. "Maybe he's runnink late."

"I hate vaitink," Dimetri grumbled. Suddenly, the door to the old warehouse opened, and a short, fat, sneaky figure came inside. Dimetri saw him and groaned.

"I vas hopink you vere Vladimir," he said. "Vhere is he?!"

"He double crossed us," the fat Russian said. "He found out about sphere and took it to Secret Security Headquarters."

"Oh no," one of Dimetri's henchman said.

"Ve're doomed," another said.

"Vhy?" Dimetri asked. "Vhat _is_ Secret Security Headquarters?"

"It's an American crime busting organization," one of the henchmen said. "Nobody has been able to take it out."

"So vhat?" Dimetri asked. "I vant that sphere. Vith it, I vill rule the vorld! And I _vill_ get that sphere."

"That von't be easy, Mr. Dimetri," the fat Russian said. "He gave it to their chief. And the chief of the SSHQ is a rock! _Nobody_ can get past him!"

"He must have _some_ veakness," Dimetri said. "Alexi and Igor, you take care of Vladimir. Ivan, Nikolai, and Boris, you vill stake out this Secret Security Headquarters place. Find someone villing to give me vhat I vant to know about this chief. Find out everything you can about him."

"Da, boss!" every last one of Dimetri's henchman shouted, giving their boss a salute.

The next morning, Big D was in his office, going over the plans to meet Vladimir with some of his agents, when his intercom went off.

"Sorry to bother you, chief," Phyllis said. "But I have the information you wanted about the Russian Underground."

"Very good," Big D said. "Bring it in at once."

"Yes, sir," Phyllis turned off the intercom, and entered Big D's office seconds later. She handed Big D a folder.

"Apparently, they're a relatively new organization here in the US," she said. "There leader is a guy who calls himself Mr. Dimetri. I don't know if that's his first, or his last name. I found out they were from a city near Moscow, but I wasn't able to find the name of it. The other members of the Russian Underground are named Alexi Ankundinov, Boris Budkovsky, Igor Iavlenskaia, Ivan Ivanov, Nikolai Nevakhovich, and Vladimir Veretennikov."

"Any photos? Police sketches? Things like that?" Big D asked, going through the papers in the folder.

"Right here," Phyllis said, handing Big D several papers. "I called the authorities in Moscow when I found out the information, and they faxed me some more information, including copies of wanted posters. The person who sent them wrote down which one was which member was which, considering the posters are in Russian, and I can't read Russian."

Big D shuffled through the wanted posters. He noticed that Alexi, Boris, Igor, Ivan, and Nikolai all looked alike, except for a few height differences, and build. But they all wore trench coats, hats, and sunglasses. Mr. Dimetri was tall and thin, wearing a black overcoat. He had thick black hair and a black eyepatch over one eye. Big D recognized Vladimir right away.

"The authorities in Moscow said these guys were pretty dangerous," Phyllis said.

"Appears so," Big D replied, looking at the list of crimes the Russian Underground had pulled off. And that list had to be two pages long! Big D put the papers back into the folder, and handed it to Phyllis.

"Put that with the rest of the confidential files," Big D said.

"Yes, sir," Phyllis said, and she took the file out of the office.

Around noon, Phyllis entered Big D's office with a piece of paper in her hand.

"What is it, Phyllis?" Big D asked. "I have a meeting to get to."

"Not anymore," Phyllis said. "I don't think you're going to be getting any information by going to that meeting today."

"And why not?" Big D asked.

"Because this just came in over the teletype machine," Phyllis replied, handing Big D the piece of paper. "Agent Ames over at the wharf sent it in."

Big D took the paper and read through it:

_Body found washed up on shore by wharf. Male. Approx. 24-29 yrs. Identified as Vladimir Veretennikov. Suspecting murder. Visible gunshot wound to chest._

"I see," Big D replied. "Call all agents I had to accompany me to this meeting. Let them know the change of plans."

"Yes sir," Phyllis said, and she notified the agents of the change of plans. Then she decided to go out and take her lunch break.

Phyllis was leaving HQ when she passed an alley by the building.

"Psst! Hey you! Pretty girl!" a Russian voice called out.

"Yes?" Phyllis asked, turning around, suspiciously.

"You vork inside, yes?" a man in a trench coat asked.

"I do," Phyllis replied, slowly inching her hand toward her purse.

"You know chief of organization?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"Ve make it vorth your vhile if you tell us vhat you know about chief of organization."

The man in the trench coat then pulled out a large wad of bills, and held them in front of Phyllis.

"Pretty lady tell us vhat ve vant to know now, yes?" he asked.

"No!" Phyllis shouted. In one lightning quick move, she grabbed a small bottle out of her purse, flipped the cap off with her thumb, and sprayed the contents right into this guy's face, and ran off down the street.

"I don't care what Marilyn Monroe said," she commented, putting the bottle back into her purse. "Diamonds aren't a girl's best friend. Pepper spray is!"

"AAAAUUUGGGHHH!" the Russian shouted. By the time his vision cleared, Phyllis was gone.

"Never mind, Boris," another Russian said. "Ve vill vait for someone more cooperative to come."

Of course, that was going to be easier said than done. Not one agent that passed the Russians' way was willing to divulge any top secret information about Big D. The Impossibles were heading toward the building to check in. Boris thought this was the perfect opportunity. Teenagers were _always_ looking for ways to make easy money.

"Hey, you kids!" he called out. "I have question!"

"What kind of question?" Coiley asked.

"You boys goink inside buildink?" Boris asked.

"Yeah, why?" Multi said.

"You know chief of buildink?" Boris asked again.

"Yeah, why do you want to know?" Fluey asked, giving this short, fat, Russian guy a weird look.

"Do you know if he has any . . . . . oh I don't know . . . . . veakness of any kind?" Boris asked.

"Weakness?" Fluey repeated. Then he laughed. "Brother, are _you_ barking up the wrong tree! Big D is as hard as a rock! He doesn't even know the meaning of the word weakness! You're wasting your time trying to find _that_ out!"

"No veakness vhatsoever?" Boris asked, taking out his stack of bills, enticing the boys with it.

"No weakness whatsoever," Fluey said, pushing Boris's hand away. "Believe me, buster, there isn't one agent alive in this building who's willing to betray the chief or the SSHQ for _any_ amount of cash!"

"Come on, fellas," Coiley said, and he and the other two Impossibles walked into the building, not even giving Boris a second glance.

"Vhat ve do now, Nikolai?" Boris asked.

"Ve keep vaitink," Nikolai said. "There has to be at least _vun_ person who vill be villink to talk!"


	3. Betrayal

It wasn't until quitting time at the SSHQ when the Russian Underground got results. As the agents were leaving the building, Boris kept trying to entice at least _one_ of them to talk with the wad of bills. He wasn't having much luck, until one agent, known as Arnold Benedict, came out of the building. He had been at the agency for thirty years, and felt _he_ was the one who should have been chief. And, since Big D let the entire agency in on his little family secret, he felt he would never get the chance to be chief. He figured once Big D was gone, Fluey would be the one to "inherit" the chief's position, since he was Big D's grandson, and only male heir.

"Psst!" Boris hissed from the alley. "Hey, you, comrade!"

"Who, me?" Agent Benedict asked.

"Da, da," Boris said. "Come here. You vant to make some fast money?"

"How much money we talking here?" Benedict asked. Boris pulled out the wad of bills. Benedict's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He had never seen that much money before in his entire life!

"You interested?" Boris asked.

"Maybe," Benedict said. "What do I have to do?"

"Ve vant to know everythink about chief of SSHQ. You know anythink?"

"Yeah, I know plenty. But what makes you think I'll talk?"

"Come vith us to meet our boss. He vants to know the information."

"Works for me."

Benedict followed Boris and the other Russian Underground members down the alley to a black car with tinted windows. Once they climbed in, they drove to the warehouse district and to their hideout.

"Hey boss!" Ivan called out. "Ve got somebody to talk!"

"About time," Dimetri said. "Vhat took you so long?"

"Lack of cooperation," Nikolai said. Dimetri stood up, and walked over to Benedict.

"Vhat do they call you?" he asked.

"Arnold Benedict," the agent said. "And you are?"

"Dimetri," the man in black replied. "Just Dimetri. How long have you been agent of Secret Security Headquarters?"

"Thirty years."

"And you know chief?"

"Yeah, I knew him before he became the chief. He's been there for thirty-five years. He's been the chief for twenty years. Though if you ask me, _I'm_ the one who should be running the show over there, not him."

"Good, good. You know chief vell, then?"

"Not _too_ well. I know his real name . . . . . Davis Dawson. I know he was married, but his wife was killed. His son was an agent, but he was also killed . . . . . ."

"Vhat I am lookink for is veaknesses. Does your chief have any veaknesses?"

"Oh . . . . . well . . . . . hmmm. That's kind of hard to say. Big D's a bit of a rock, you know. A real tough as nails type. I don't think anything can phase him at all. Unless of course . . . . ."

"Unless of course vhat?"

"What's in it for me if I tell you?"

Dimetri smiled. Agent Benedict was a man after his own heart, sneaky and ruthless. He wasn't going to tell anything to Dimetri unless the price was right.

"If you tell me vhat your current chief's veakness is," Dimetri said, "I vill see to it that you are runnink Secret Security Headquarters."

"Done," Benedict said, without even hesitating.

"So vhat is his veakness?"

"Big D's grandkids. They work at the agency. His granddaughter's his secretary, and his grandson's one of the top agents at the SSHQ. Though, Phyllis knows martial arts, and Fluey has been known to pack quite a killer punch."

"But you are _sure_ his grandchildren are his veakness?"

"Oh yeah, positive. His grandson especially!"

"Wery vell. You provide the information on chief's grandchildren to me, and then ve vill talk about payment."

"Deal."

Benedict and Dimetri shook on it. The next day, Benedict came into Big D's outer office with a camera.

"Smile, Phyllis!" he shouted.

"Huh?" Phyllis asked, looking over just in time to see the flashbulb go off in her face.

"Oooh!" she shouted. "What in the world . . . . ."

"Sorry about that," Benedict said, slyly making his way over to the filing cabinet. "The flash on this new camera's pretty powerful, isn't it?"

"I'll say it is!" Phyllis shouted. "I can't see a thing now!"

"It'll pass in a few minutes," Benedict said, opening the drawer labeled "A-F." He pulled a file out, went to the drawer labeled "M-S," and pulled another file. He closed the drawer just as Phyllis recovered from the flash.

"What are you doing with those files, Arnold?" she asked.

"I need to make a quick copy of a couple of cases," Benedict said. "Confidential stuff. I'll put 'em back when I'm done."

"All right, I guess," Phyllis said. "But what's with the camera?"

"I was testing to make sure it worked."

Phyllis just nodded and got back to work. Benedict then went down to the copy room, and copied the contents of the folders he had borrowed. Then, as promised, he returned the files to the filing cabinet in Big D's outer office, once again blinding Phyllis with the flash on that camera of his, so she wouldn't know exactly what folders he had borrowed.

"Hey!" she shouted, when he hit the flash again. "Cut it out, Arnold! Who do you think you are, Alan Funt?!"

"Sorry," Benedict said. Then he left the office. Phyllis shook her head and went back to typing.

During that time, Benedict went back to the warehouse and handed Dimetri the folder he had put the copies of the files he made into.

"Let's see . . . . ." Dimetri said. "Dawson, Phyllis Marie. Administration. Age tventy-vun. This the secretary, yes?"

"Yes," Benedict said. "She doesn't leave the office too much. But she _has_ been known to karate guys who get fresh with her."

"Let's look at the other one," Dimetri said, laying the information on Phyllis aside for the moment. "McAlister, Franklin Peter. Alias Anthony Manikatti. Alias Fluid Man. Law enforcement diwision. Age sixteen . . . . . . a sixteen-year-old in _law_ enforcement?!"

"Yeah, he's one of three teenagers the law enforcement division," Benedict said.

"Is that chief of yours out of his head?!" Dimetri shouted. "This is merely a child!"

"Trust me, these boys aren't your average teenagers. They've got superpowers."

"I see. How hard is it to get our hands on this one?"

"Very. He's almost always out of town, and at even the slightest _chance_ of trouble, he'll just change over into his superhero identity. There was a time where he couldn't do that by himself, but the lab guys fixed that problem. They gave each of the three Impossibles this little transformer box that lets them convert from their superhero forms and back again when separated. But the easiest way to get to the chief is through this kid."

"You're positive on this?"

"Absolutely. All you gotta do is nab him, and the chief will do whatever you want him to."

"And vhat's the easiest way to do that, Mr. Benedict?"

"You'll have to catch him off guard. He's a smart kid, so you'll have to come up with something sneaky. He's not dumb enough to fall for the old drive up and claim a relative sent you."

"Vhat ve may need to do is get inside the place. You think you can set it up?"

"Yeah, sure. I can sneak some of your guys in through the back of the agency, and dismantle some of the security equipment like the cameras and stuff. If the reward's right, that is."

"As long as you get us inside the buildink. Then, you vill get vhat is comink to you. But to make sure you _do_, here is slight adwance on salary."

Dimetri separated a pile of hundred dollar bills and handed them to Benedict. He counted the bills, and put them into his coat.

"It's a done deal, Mr. Dimetri," he said. "Have your boys meet me at the back door of HQ at ten o' clock tomorrow morning."


	4. Surprise Attack

The next morning, Big D seemed to be distracted by that sphere. He couldn't explain it. He'd had that strange nightmare again, and he just couldn't seem to figure it out. What did it all mean?

As he was sitting there, trying to figure it out, he heard someone trying to open the door, followed by a knock.

"Hey, chief?" he heard Fluey asked. "Can I come in? I want to talk to you."

"One second," Big D said. He put the sphere back into his wall safe, closed it, and unlocked the door, letting Fluey inside.

"Why's your door locked?" the dark-haired Impossible asked.

"It's one way to ensure no one barges in unexpectedly," Big D said, sitting back down at his desk. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well . . . . . Phyllis and I noticed you seem kind of . . . . . out of it."

"What do you mean out of it?"

"Like something's on your mind, you know? Dani told me you were asking her about recurring nightmares and dream interpretation. And I was wondering if that had anything to do with _me_, considering I tend to have nightmares after a particularly heavy case, if you know what I mean. Like the Manikatti incident?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that. And no, my questioning Miss Critch has nothing to do with you."

"Then why'd you ask her about it, chief? What's going on? It's like you've been on another planet or something."

"It's nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"It's _not_ nothing, chief. Something's up, I can feel it. For the past few days, it's like you've been lost in La-La Land. I'm just worried about you, chief!"

Big D stood up, walked out from behind his desk, and put his hands on his grandson's shoulders.

"It's not your job to worry about me," he said. "Nothing is going on. You have no reason to worry. Let me worry about myself. I realize I have been acting quite preoccupied lately, but I assure you, it's nothing for you to be concerned about."

"All right, I guess," Fluey said, shrugging. And with that, he left the office. Phyllis, Multi, and Coiley were waiting for him outside.

"What did he say?" Coiley asked.

"He said nothing was wrong," Fluey said. "But I don't believe him. Why would he ask Dani, out of the blue like that, about recurring nightmares? I don't get it."

"I don't, either," Multi said.

"Hey, you guys don't think maybe . . . . ." Coiley started, but stopped.

"What, Coiley?" Phyllis asked.

"You think maybe Big D is having trouble with a recurring nightmare himself?" Coiley asked.

"Nah, that's crazy!" Fluey shouted. "Big D wouldn't let nightmares bug him. Would he?"

Nobody had an answer for that one, but one thing was definitely for sure. Phyllis and the Impossibles definitely had to keep this one to themselves. The boys then started to head downstairs.

Meanwhile, Benedict was preparing for the Russian Underground's arrival. He stopped by one of the security rooms. Several guards had their eyes glued to the monitors all over the room. None of them were paying any attention. Benedict, an expert on stealth, snuck in undetected, and unplugged the machines. Once everything shut down, he severed the plug.

Benedict then snuck into another part of the room where no one was around, and cut all the wires connected to the security cameras. Then, he left the area, and went outside to the alley, where he was to meet Igor, Ivan, and Boris.

"Everything's set," Benedict said. "I'll let you in, and you can just go in, get what you need, and get out."

"Da," Boris said. "Thank you, comrade."

Benedict used his SSHQ ID card and swiped it in the card reader. The door unlocked, and Benedict let the three Russian spies inside. Benedict had provided them with a map of the building, so they knew exactly which way to go to get to the lobby undetected.

It had been a quiet day at the SSHQ. It was a slow week for crime, with the exception of the murder of Vladimir Veretennikov, which several agents were trying to solve. The Impossibles were sitting around, tuning their guitars. They didn't have anything better to do, anyway. The chief never let them get involved with murder cases.

The quiet of the day was interrupted suddenly, when three men dressed in black sweat suits and ski masks ran into the lobby and opened fire. Several agents got down on the floor. A few more ducked behind various objects. Members of the security team pulled out their own guns.

"Freeze!" one of the guards shouted.

One of the gunmen fired at the security guard, and then began firing around the room. Rookie agents were panicking. The security team had to take cover themselves, and began firing at the gunmen. One of the agents immediately pressed a red button which sounded an alarm, and red lights began flashing. The gunmen didn't seemed phased at the alarm going off, and they continued firing.

When Big D heard the Code Red Alert sounding, he immediately jumped to his feet and ran out of his office.

"What's going on?" he asked Phyllis.

"I don't know," Phyllis said, looking at a monitor. She was flipping through channels, but everything was black. "If they're sounding the Code Red Alert, it must be pretty big."

"Stay here where it's safe," Big D ordered. "I don't want you getting involved in a Code Red."

"Yes sir!" Phyllis shouted.

Big D raced into the hallway. All the regular elevators automatically stopped running once the Code Red button was pushed. A couple of agents were trapped in between floors because of this. And being at the top floor of the building meant it would take too long to reach the lobby by the stairs. But Big D was prepared for this. The chief before him had a special elevator installed in the building, but it was only operable through an access code, which only Big D knew. It went directly to any floor in the building, non-stop, and it was faster than the other elevators as well.

The lobby was in a state of utter chaos. Many agents were doing their best to fight off the three intruders, but it wasn't easy, especially with bullets flying all over the place.

"You think we oughta transform and take care of this?" Coiley asked, as he, Multi, Fluey, and Skittles huddled behind the security desk to avoid getting hit with the flying bullets.

"We might end up drawing attention to ourselves," Multi said.

"Well, we can't sit here and do nothing!" Fluey shouted.

In one split second, the boys heard the sound of an extremely loud gunshot. There was a bullet hole in the wall right above the trio's heads, and they saw two of the gunmen standing in front of them.

"Holy horrific!" Coiley shouted.

One of the masked men grabbed Fluey by his shirt, and pulled him to his feet. The other grabbed his arms and held him while the first began digging through his pockets.

"Here it is," he said, pulling out Fluey's transformer. He threw it into the air, and fired his gun. It was right on target, and the transformer was practically obliterated when the bullet hit it.

"Hey!" Fluey shouted. "Just what do you think you're . . . . ."

"Let's go," the second gunman said, covering Fluey's mouth with his hand. "You're comink vith us!"

Skittles wasted no time. She revved up, charged the gunman and slammed into his stomach, knocking him off his feet, causing him to let go of Fluey. That gave him, and the other two Impossibles a chance to run. They needed a chance to get to a take a better cover in order to transform. The gunman was about to go after them when Skittles suddenly bit him in the leg, and wouldn't let go. But Skittles hadn't reckoned on the other two masked gunmen. Another shot was fired, and Skittles let go of the first gunman's leg, and howled in pain.

"Skittles!" Fluey shouted. He had seen the pup take the bullet, and was about to run to help her. But before he could reach her, he was grabbed by the third gunman. The gunman clamped his hand firmly over the dark-haired Impossible's mouth, and turned to the other two.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go."

"Hold it!" Coiley shouted, as he and Multi ran out into the open. "You're not going anywhere!"

The two Impossibles grabbed their transformers and were about ready to push the buttons, when the gunmen aimed at them. He fired, and shot the transformers out of the boys' hands, destroying them. And they didn't stop there. They fired again, and Multi and Coiley barely had time to duck. Multi ended up taking a bullet to his leg, while Coiley had been shot in the back, right behind his left shoulder. But they didn't stop there. They fired at the two Impossibles a couple more times for good measure. Fluey let out a scream of terror seeing his two best friends get shot, but the gunmen didn't pay any attention to him. They just started dragging him toward the door.

Big D had arrived on the scene just in time to see Coiley and Multi fall, and the three intruders heading for the exit, dragging Fluey with them. Fluey was struggling mightily trying to get away. Big D pulled a small gun out of his coat, and jumped out into the open, firing at the wall directly in front of the intruders.

"Let him go," he said.

"Stay back!" one of the gunmen shouted, pressing the barrel of his gun against Fluey's right temple. Fluey stopped struggling immediately.

"Drop your veapon, comrade," the gunman said. "Or else ve blow the boy's brains out!"

Big D immediately dropped his gun to the floor, and glared at the gunmen. One of them laughed, and fired at the chief. Big D ducked down to the floor in the nick of time.

But he immediately got up, and karate chopped one of the gun men in the wrist, causing his weapon to go flying. Then the two of them got into a good old fashioned barroom brawl. The other two went to help their comrade, letting go of Fluey in the process. Fluey got up, and ran to Coiley and Multi, wanting to see if they were all right.

Big D put up a good fight, and he _did _manage to knock the intruders' guns away, but three against one are not good odds. One of the gunmen punched Big D in the stomach as hard as he could, knocking the wind out of him. The second landed a hard left cross across the chief's face. The third gave him a strong uppercut to the jaw, which knocked Big D off his feet. He landed hard, banging his head against the marble floor, knocking himself out. Seeing his grandfather fall, Fluey immediately got to his feet and tried to run to him, but he was grabbed by one of the gun men, who covered the teenager's mouth to keep him from calling for help.

"Let's make like tree and get out of here," the second gunman said, and the three of them left the building. They ran over to an alley, where a van was waiting. They opened the back doors, and threw Fluey inside. There were two other men in the van.

Before Fluey had any time to react, the men seized him, and started tying him up, as tightly as possible. Fluey desperately tried to scream for help, but one of the men gagged him, and shoved him down to the floor of the van. He immediately began struggling, but stopped when one of the gunmen pressed his weapon against the side of his head.

"Stop that or else I shoot," a voice said. "You're not goink anyvhere, kiddo. So it vould be in your best interest to stay still and keep quiet!"

Fluey gulped, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was about all he could do.

"That's better," one of his captors said. "Now just relax. Everythink's goink to be fine if you do _exactly_ vhat ve tell you to do."

A blindfold was then tied over his eyes, and one of his captors shoved wads of cotton into his ears. Fluey figured whoever these guys were, they certainly weren't taking chances on Fluey finding out where they were taking him. He tried to relax, but found it difficult. He was nervous. What did these guys want with him? He could only hope Big D would be able to handle this one.


	5. Starting the Search

Big D slowly came to hours later. He was sore, and his head was killing him. He also found himself in the SSHQ infirmary. Phyllis was standing over him.

"Chief?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," Big D replied, rubbing his head. "Do I even want to _ask_ what happened?"

"Probably not, sir," the chief of security said, coming into the room. He looked pretty steamed. "I just can't be_lieve_ this happened."

"How _did_ it happen, anyway?" Big D asked. "I thought the cameras were in order."

"We've been sabotaged, sir," another security guard said. "Somebody cut the security cameras, dismantled the basic system, and snuck in. We're not sure how they got in, and it was obviously not through the front doors. And _nobody_ has access to the back doors except the agents here. We're working on this, though, Big D. We're going to see to it that something like this _never _happens again."

"It better not," Big D said.

"I don't blame you for being ticked off, Big D," the chief of security said. "And I wouldn't blame you if you fired me. After all, it's my job to keep these things from happening!"

"What's done is done," Big D said. "Right now, I'm more concerned about why they took Agent Fluid with them, and only him."

"Yeah, with an attack like this, you'd think they'd take more hostages," Phyllis replied.

"What's the status of the lobby, anyway?" Big D asked.

"You mean the massacre sight?" Dr. Phelps asked. "We had to send most of them to St. Mercy's, due to the fact that I don't have the equipment to adequately treat some of those injuries acquired during the attack."

"How many, Phelps?" Big D asked.

"We had to send twenty to St. Mercy's, and five to the morgue," Dr. Phelps said, gravely. "I'm sorry to be so blunt, but in cases like this, it's better just to come out and say it."

"And Agents Coil and Multi. What about them?"

"St. Mercy's, suffering from multiple gunshot wounds. They'll be unable to perform any of their duties until further notice. They're both currently in critical condition, but the good news is none of the shots they took were life threatening."

"And Impossi-Pup?"

"That's another matter. She's down in sector K-Nine with the agency vet. She said it was too early to tell if Skittles will make it or not."

Big D merely nodded, but Dr. Phelps and Phyllis could tell he was seeing red by this point. It was bad enough that these men invaded the building and took Fluey prisoner, but to mercilessly gun down a little puppy the way they did . . . . . .

"How long am I going to be out of commission, Phelps?" Big D asked.

"Not long," Dr. Phelps replied. You've got some minor bruises, so I'd say just as soon as whatever headache you may have goes away, you'll be back in business."

"Very good. In the meantime, send three agents outside to search the area for clues on where to find those criminals."

"Yes sir!"

Dr. Phelps and the others left the room so Big D could relax a little and get rid of that headache. The scene in the lobby was still on the chief's mind. It was almost the same as his dream, except for one detail. In his dream, Multi and Coiley had been killed. At least they were still alive, but who was to say that wouldn't change?

"It _was_ an omen," Big D said. "If I had paid more attention to it, I might have been able to prevent this infiltration."

Big D clenched his fist tightly. He didn't know what these people wanted with Fluey, but one thing was for sure, he wasn't going to let them get away with it.

The next morning, Big D called an emergency meeting. Everyone knew about the attack on the agency, but no one knew quite what to do.

"I hope this ain't gonna be like the Shadow incident," the grammatically challenged SSHQ chief mechanic, Mike Rogers, said to the head of the science department, Dr. Reggie Johnson.

"You know the circumstances of the Shadow incident was mostly because the chief didn't tell us Fluey was his grandson," Reggie said. "But I know what you mean."

"You think it's just a random hostage situation?"

"No. I'm willing to bet you _anything_ whoever those gun men are working for targeted Fluey specifically. I think someone's after Big D."

"Yeah. And what better way to get someone in their clutches than to lure them into a trap usin' somethin' worth more than their own life as bait? But how do you think they found out? When Big D told us, he said that information was not to leave the auditorium."

"Probably the same way the Shadow found out."

Big D waited for the agents to file into the auditorium. He knew most of them were complaining about this being like the Shadow incident. The Shadow had been Big D's worst enemy. He was trying to take out the Secret Security Headquarters by first taking out Big D. He had planted a miniature spy camera disguised as a house fly in his office in order to dig up some dirt on Big D. It was from this video footage the Shadow discovered Fluey was Big D's grandson. The Shadow then broke four of the Impossibles' enemies out of prison and had them kidnap Fluey. The Shadow was planning on killing Fluey, knowing Big D had lost his only child (Fluey's birth father) sixteen years earlier. The Shadow wanted Big D to suffer the absolute worst pain a parent could suffer: the loss of a child (or in this case, grandchild), knowing if Big D lost his grandson, he would be devastated. The plan didn't work out so well, and the Shadow had been locked away in jail.

Once all the agents (or the ones that were left) were in the auditorium, Big D banged his gavel against the podium to call the room to order.

"I assume you all know about the infiltration," he said. "We were unable to detect it because the security cameras had been disabled."

"Sounds like an inside job," an agent said. "We must have another mole around here."

"I'm in no mood to waste time looking for a mole," Big D said.

"You're not going to go the same route you did with the Shadow, are you chief?" Agent Caufield asked.

"No," Big D said. "I'm only assigning a handful of agents to tackle this case. Everyone else is to return to their normal duty."

Big D banged the gavel on the podium again to adjourn the meeting. Then he went back up to his office. He had some paperwork to fill out.

Down in the SSHQ garage, Mike was hammering out dents in one of the agent's cars. Phyllis was down there, sitting on his workbench, watching him.

"It's really weird hammerin' out somebody else's car," he said, swinging his sledgehammer in a rhythm that reminded Phyllis of the old song "Chain Gang" (by Sam Cooke, for those of you who want to know).

"What do you mean?" Phyllis asked.

"I'm so used to bangin' out at that Impossi-Mobile, it feels weird repairin' anybody else's car!" Mike shouted. Phyllis just nodded. Under normal circumstances, she would have laughed (considering Mike _always_ complained when he had to repair the Impossi-Mobile, which was quite a lot), but her mind was on the attack.

"Are you positive whoever attacked HQ is after the chief?" she asked.

"Reg and I are both pretty sure," Mike said, not even breaking from his rhythm. "I'm also sure the chief's got a lot more enemies out there than Big Tony Manikatti and the Shadow. He ain't chief for nothin' ya know! He's sent many a crook to the slammer."

"It's a dangerous line of work we're in, isn't it?"

"Yeah, you said it. That's why I'm perfectly content bein' a mechanic."

Phyllis nodded, and continued to watch Mike swing that sledgehammer. She didn't know why, but she enjoyed watching Mike work, especially swinging that hammer and slamming it into the cars.

Two days had passed. The search team Big D sent to investigate found tire tracks in the alley behind the SSHQ, but they seemed to disappear after the vehicle reached the main interstate. One of the agents brought in a photo he took of the tracks.

"I thought maybe that would provide us with a lead, chief," he said. "It would appear that that the vehicle took off with a _lot_ of speed. Notice the skid marks?"

"Yes, and they seem to be around the corners of the road around the building," Big D said, looking at the pictures. "In any case, it's at least a start. Take these to the forensics team."

"Yes, sir," the agent said, and left the office. As he was leaving, Phyllis walked into the office with a cup of coffee.

"Any word yet?" she asked, handing her grandfather the cup.

"Unfortunately, no," Big D sighed. "I have a feeling it was this Russian Underground that initiated the attack. The men I encountered had distinct Russian accents."

"Too bad the security cameras were disabled. I'd like to know how they got in. But what do they want?"

Big D just shook his head, as if to say he didn't know.

Two more days passed, and there still wasn't any word in the case. The report from forensics claimed that the pattern of the tire marks could have been _any_ kind of tire in the city. There was nothing unusual about it. It was back to the drawing board.

Big D went to visit the K-9 unit in the building after awhile. He heard they brought out the German shepherds and had them sniff around the crime scene. Big D had provided the handlers with Fluey's guitar so they could get his scent.

And everyone had tried contacting Fluey through his wrist communicator. He was still wearing it at the time of his abduction, but he wasn't answering it. That only made Phyllis and Big D nervous.

But Big D wasn't interested in visiting the K-9 unit for information on what they were doing. He wanted to speak to the agency vet, Dr. Angela Marion. She was looking after Skittles around the clock. Skittles had been hooked up to various machines, had an oxygen mask over her face, and her entire midsection was bandaged (she had been hit in the side by the bullet). Big D thought she looked like something out of a sci-fi horror movie.

"What's the status, doctor?" he asked, gently scratching the semi-conscious puppy's ears.

"About the same," Dr. Marion sighed. "It's still too early to tell. I'd hate to be the one to tell the boys if it ends badly."

"I'm sure it won't end badly. If this dog is anything like her boys, then she absolutely, positively _won't_ let me down, isn't that right, girl?"

Skittles whimpered a little, and wagged her tail slightly, to show Big D that she was determined to pull through.


	6. Natasha

Things were going slowly at HQ. Big D was practically climbing the walls. There was no word on how the search was going, and whatever clues the agents managed to dig up led to dead ends. As he was finishing up with a report from the search party, Danalleah knocked on his office door, with an envelope in her hand. She looked nervous and upset.

"What is it, Ms. Critch?" Big D asked.

"We, uhh, we just ran across something in the mail room," Danalleah said, nervously. "I thought I should run it up to you right away."

Danalleah handed Big D the envelope, and right away, he could see why she looked upset. The only thing on the envelope was "Big D," and the letters had been cut out of newspapers and magazines. To the chief, this only meant one thing. A ransom note. Quickly, he opened he envelope, and pulled out a letter, also comprised of newspaper and magazine cutouts. Attached to the note was a photo of Fluey, bound and gagged, and laying unconscious. Big D couldn't tell if he had been hit in the head, or if he had been drugged. There was a newspaper laying beside him on the floor. Big D pulled a magnifying glass out of his desk drawer to get a closer look. Sure enough, the newspaper was from the day before. Big D then started reading the note.

_You have something we want, we have something you want. If you ever want to see your grandson alive again, Big D, surrender the sphere. Otherwise, he'll wind up like our good friend, Vladimir. I'm sure you recall what happened to him. Regards, The Russian Underground_

"That confirms my suspicion on them," Big D said, practically growling.

"What sphere?" Danalleah asked, looking at the ransom note. "What are they talking about anyway?"

"I was given a sphere days before we were infiltrated. I don't know what it does, and I don't know what they want it for. But after looking at the information on them, I can only assume they want this sphere for evil."

Big D walked over to his safe, opened it, took out the sphere, and handed it to Danalleah.

"What do you make of it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Danalleah said, taking the sphere. "Ooohhh. I can feel it's vibrations. This is a powerful device, for sure, but . . . . . but I don't know what it is."

"Vibrations?"

"It's a supernatural thing, Big D. Only the supernatural can feel them. Would you like me to ask Mother? She might know."

"Quite frankly, Ms. Critch, I've had enough of your mother to last a lifetime."

Danalleah nodded, and left the room, leaving the sphere on the desk. Big D pondered the dilemma. Why did they want this thing so badly?

The next morning, Phyllis was sitting at her typewriter, listening to the radio while she worked. The media had picked up the story rather quickly.

"All tour dates for the teen singing sensations, the Impossibles, have been cancelled until further notice," the announcer said. "This is due to the recent attack on the Secret Security Headquarters building almost a week ago. The Impossibles were visiting the building when three men charged in and opened fire. Band members Calvin Collins and Mark Mills were both injured, and have been upgraded from critical condition to serious condition, and are currently being treated at St. Mercy's Hospital here in Megatropolis. It is also confirmed by witnesses that the third member of the trio, Franky McAlister, was abducted by the three men who stormed the building. The SSHQ is requesting anyone with any information on the whereabouts of McAlister, or his abductors to come forward. In other news, the president of the United States has --"

Phyllis turned off the radio, and went back to her typewriter, though she was a bit preoccupied. As she was working, the door to the outer office opened. Phyllis looked up, and saw a gorgeous young woman, about twenty-one or twenty-two, wearing a pale pink skirt and jacket, trimmed with brown faux fir, a matching faux fur hat, black gloves, and black calf-length leather go-go boots. She had dark brown hair in a flip style, and a figure that would kick a guy's testosterone into overdrive. Phyllis cleared her throat, and took off her reading glasses for a moment.

"May I help you?" she asked, calmly.

"My name is Natasha Glamorski," the woman said. Phyllis noticed she had a Russian accent. "I am here to speak vith the chief."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I think he'll see me vithout an appointment."

"I'm sorry, but nobody sees Big D without an appointment. The chief is a very busy man, and he can not be bothered by every Tom, Dick, and Harry that comes into the office without an appointment to see him."

"Tell him it concerns . . . . . the sphere."

Phyllis stared at the woman. Then, she pushed the intercom button.

"Chief, there's someone here to see you," she said.

"Who is it?" Big D asked. "I am extraordinarily busy."

"A Natasha Glamorski. She says it concerns the sphere. Whatever _that_ means!"

"The sphere . . . . . all right. Let her in."

Natasha gave Phyllis a smug smile, and walked into Big D's office. Phyllis could practically hear the stereotypical drum beats played in detective movies when a gorgeous girl crossed the room.

Natasha stepped into Big D's office, and closed the door.

"You are Big D, yes?" she asked.

"I am," Big D said, standing up. "Who are you?"

"Natasha Glamorski. I am here strictly on business."

"What _kind_ of business?" Big D asked, glaring at the Russian femme fatale. "My secretary mentioned it concerns the sphere."

"It does," Natasha said. "I can't talk here. Vhy don't ve set up rendez-vous, and I vill tell you everythink I know."

"I'd rather not. Quite frankly, Ms. Glamorski, I don't trust you. I have no way of knowing if this is legitimate or not."

"Suit yourself, babushkins. But here is my number, in case you change your mind."

Natasha wrote a phone number on a slip of paper, dropped it on Big D's desk, and walked out of the office. Big D merely took the phone number and put it in his desk drawer for further reference. Once she left, Phyllis entered the room.

"Incidentally, what does a sphere have to do with anything?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Big D said, handing Phyllis the ransom note he received. "But I do know the Russian Underground wants it, and that's why they've kidnapped your brother. They know I have it."

"But what _is_ it? And what do they want it for?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

"Well . . . . . I guess we should be thankful they _want_ something. Usually, if someone is kidnapped for ransom, they're usually kept alive."

"Young lady, I find that type of logic to be useless. The ransom note states they _will_ kill Fluid if they have to. I am going to take the steps to see that doesn't happen. The unfortunate thing is your brother is defenseless right now. We found the remains of his transformer in the lobby. And I don't know if they took his communicator or not."

Phyllis nodded, and got back to work. It was about all she could do.

For the next three days, Big D, Reggie, and the science team got to work analyzing the sphere. They even called in science professors from all over the world and supernatural specialists to figure out what secrets it held, but not one person could come up with anything. By the third day of this, Big D had enough.

"I can't take it any longer," he sighed. "I'm taking matters into my own hands. It's the Shadow incident all over again."

"What do you mean, chief?" Reggie asked.

"I kept a secret," Big D said. "A secret I never should have kept from the agency. And I'm doing it now, too. The old saying about history repeating itself is true, Johnson. If I hadn't kept secrets this time around, I might have been able to stop the attack on the agency, and kept Fluid from being abducted."

"What's the matter, Big D?" Dr. Phelps asked.

"Dr. Phelps," Big D said, taking a deep breath. "Remember when I had asked both you, and Danalleah Critch, about recurring dreams? And you both assumed I was talking about Fluid, considering how prone he is to nightmares?"

"Yes," Dr. Phelps said. "You said it had nothing to do with Fluey, and you were just curious."

"Well, it wasn't curiosity," Big D admitted. "I've been having a recurring nightmare. And the attack on the agency was part of it."

Big D went on to explain the rest of his nightmare before a stunned Reggie and Dr. Phelps. They couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"If I had only _told_ someone the details," Big D grumbled, holding his hand against his forehead, and looking down at the floor. "Then maybe this _never_ would have happened."

"Don't blame yourself, chief," Reggie said. "You couldn't have known it was some kind of omen."

"It's too late to change things now," Big D said. "I'm calling another meeting at once!"

Dr. Phelps and Reggie nodded, and helped the chief spread the word. Finally, all the agents assembled in the auditorium. Big D banged his gavel to get their attention.

"Attention please!" he called out. "I have an important announcement to make! I have decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm going to conduct the search alone."

"Alone?!" someone shouted.

"Don't you want some back up, chief?" Mike asked.

"No, Rogers," Big D said. "I am striking out on my own for this. In my absence, I would like Agent Arnold Benedict to resume duties as temporary chief until I return."

"I shall do my best to lead the agency on in this time of crisis, mon capitane," Benedict said, standing up and saluting.

"Oh brother," Mike muttered under his breath.

"Where in the world did he get a thing like _that_?" Phyllis asked.

"Beats me," Mike shrugged. "But he doesn't seem all that broken up about this mess, does he?"

Phyllis agreed. Big D adjourned the meeting, and he and Phyllis went up to his office. Phyllis watched as Big D took the sphere out of his safe.

"You're really going through with this?" she asked. "By yourself?"

"Why not?" Big D asked. "I've handled many cases by myself."

"Yeah, but you were a younger man then. A _lot_ younger!"

"Don't push it, young lady."

Phyllis would have laughed at that (considering Big D was always saying "don't push it" to Fluey), but the situation at hand was not one to be laughed over.

"I still think you should have someone go with you," she said. "What if you don't come back?"

"Then you'll just have to carry on without me," Big D said, opening his desk drawer, taking something out, and putting it in his pocket. "I don't want you getting involved in this mess."

"But why did you leave Agent Benedict in charge?"

"Because he has the experience. When the Shadow murdered the chief before me, both he and I were the top choices for running the agency, and I happened to win out. Benedict and I know this agency like the backs of our hands."

"I still don't like the thought of you going out there to find Fluey alone."

"Well, I am, and don't you get any bright ideas about following me, either. I'll not have both my grandchildren wind up missing."

Big D then picked up his briefcase, and started toward the door. Before he left, he turned toward Phyllis, and sighed.

"This is something I have to do," he said. "Now, promise me you'll stay here and carry on with your work as you normally would. Be a good girl, and take care of yourself."

"All right," Phyllis said, grudgingly. "But I _still_ don't like it."

Big D said nothing more, and left the office. Once he did, he went to his house, and took something out of his pocket. It was Natasha Glamorski's phone number. He picked up the phone, and began dialing.

"Hello, dahlink," he heard her say.

"Is this Natasha Glamorski?" Big D asked.

"Da, who is this?"

"Big D of the Secret Security Headquarters. I've decided to take you up on that offer about the sphere. I need to know everything about it."

"Oh of course, babushkins, of course! Come to my apartment and ve'll talk over coffee."

Big D wrote down Natasha's address as she gave it, and then hung up. He didn't trust this Russian femme fatale, but she knew about the sphere, and he didn't. He didn't have much choice.

An hour later, Big D arrived at the building where Natasha said her apartment was. It was in a classy neighborhood, that was for sure. The complex was very swanky. He took the elevator up to Natasha's apartment, and pressed the button on the side of the door. Something inside buzzed, and the door opened a few moments later.

"Velcome, babushkins," she said. "Do come in. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

"This is not a social call, Ms. Glamorski," Big D said. "I'm here to talk business."

"Of course, dahlink, of course. Just sit down and make yourself at home. I'll get some coffee, and then, ve talk."

Big D sighed, and sat down on Natasha's couch. It was about all he could do. If he wanted the information, he'd have to play by Natasha's rules. She disappeared into the kitchen, and Big D had a look around. The apartment was filled with prints of classic paintings. She had a state of the art hi-fi system, and Big D noticed all her albums were classical music, composed only by Russian composers. It was obvious Natasha lived the high life. But even though the place looked inviting, Big D felt uncomfortable. Finally, Natasha came into the room from the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee.

"Here you are, babushkins," she said, handing one of the mugs to Big D. "I'd like to propose a toast."

"Ms. Glamorski," Big D said, trying to remain patient, which wasn't easy, "as I have stated before, I am not making a social call here. I need any and all information you have on that sphere immediately, if not sooner."

"All in due time, babushkins. Now then, here's to you, babushkins. May you live long and prosperous life. Bottom's up, as they say."

Natasha gave out a little laugh, as she clinked her mug against Big D's. Big D just sighed, and took a sip of the coffee, figuring it might do him some good. He needed the jolt from the caffeine, anyway. But the strangest thing happened. Big D suddenly felt dizzy. His vision was blurry, and the room began swaying. He lost his grip on the coffee cup, and it fell to the floor, breaking to pieces, and sloshing coffee all over. Then, without a word, Big D lost all consciousness.


	7. The Abandoned City

Big D woke up some time later, in some sort of cell. He groaned, and leaned up, holding his hand to his head for a moment. He had a killer headache.

"Oh, my head . . . . ." he mumbled. "Where am I?"

Big D looked around his surroundings. It looked like no one had been in this room in quite some time. The bars on the window were rusted, and there were cracks in the wall. Big D walked over to the door and tried to open it, but the door was locked.

"That figures," he grumbled. "I had better find a way out of here."

Big D looked around the room for an alternative way out, and noticed a piece of paper tacked to one wall. Immediately, he grabbed it, and began reading it.

_If you want to get out of here alive, follow all of the instructions you are given to the letter. You will find everything you need in the shoulder bag._

Big D found this a bit odd, but he decided to just go with it. Fluey's life might have been at stake, and he was determined to get him back. Big D spotted the shoulder bag in question laying on a cot, and picked it up. The first thing he found when he opened it was a medicine bottle. He immediately took a couple of pills out and swallowed them. They kicked in almost immediately.

"Much better," he said, as his headache began to fade. He rummaged through the bag and found a flashlight, a camera, a marker, and a set of keys. He also noticed he still had his wrist communicator. He immediately activated it.

"Big D calling Headquarters," he said. "Do you read me? Repeat, do you read me?"

Unfortunately, all Big D got was static. It only told him he couldn't get a signal. He figured he'd try again later. He realized something else, too.

"The sphere . . . . ." he said. "Where is it?! That Russian woman . . . . . she must have taken it. Of all the no good, dirty, rotten . . . . . . I can't be_lieve_ I've fallen for something like this!"

Big D mumbled something under his breath, then took the keys out of the bag and tried each one of them in the door until it unlocked. Then, he found himself in another room. It looked very much like the cell, old, and falling apart. There was another note taped to the wall. He noticed this one was in a different handwriting than the first.

_Find the security code and go up to the attic. Better hurry. Time's a-wasting! Tick-tock, tick-tock!_

"Whoever left this has a very sick sense of humor," Big D said, putting the note in his shoulder bag. "And what the devil does he mean by security code?"

Big D glanced around the room and saw several small, colorful scraps of paper. Each scrap had a number written on them. He figured they must be the security code, so he quickly gathered them up, and went to the door.

"Now to figure out what the code is," he said. "I can't waste any time guessing the correct order. If this lock is anything like the locks at headquarters, then it's likely after a certain number of wrong guesses, the pass code will reset itself."

Big D looked at the strange lock closely for a clue to the correct order of the pass code, when he noticed a small color bar underneath the screen. The colors on the bar matched the colors of the paper scraps he found. Immediately, Big D ordered the paper scraps in the order as the colors were shown on the bar, and punched in the numbers. The door opened, and Big D started to climb up a flight of stairs to the attic.

"I just know that Glamorski woman has a hand in this somehow," he said. "What in the world is this all about, anyway?"

Big D entered the attic and immediately began shivering. It was bitterly cold up there, and there was very little heat. Snow was coming in through the broken window.

"Odd, very odd," he commented. "It's snowing, and it's the middle of July, during the city's worst heat wave in history . . . . ."

Big D suddenly realized something. Snow in July was part of his recurring nightmare! Another piece of paper was tacked to a beam on the ceiling, and he grabbed it.

_Information will be available soon. You just have to look for it._

"Now what on earth does _this_ mean?!" Big D shouted. "If someone is playing games with me, they will be very sorry indeed!"

Big D stuffed this paper into the bag, and he found another one tacked up on the wall, along with a map and a knife.

_You may need these. There's a small building next to your current location. Head there for more instructions._

Seeing as how he didn't have any choice, Big D stuffed the knife and the note into the shoulder bag, and walked out onto the roof of the building. It definitely wasn't Megatropolis, he knew that. It looked like it was just a regular, ordinary small town, but somehow, Big D felt there was something strange about it. No one was around. There were no people, no animals, no nothing. The silence was practically deafening. Big D swallowed hard, and started to head for the building he was instructed to go to. When he reached the building, he found it completely pitch black.

"Thank goodness they left a flashlight," he said, pulling the flashlight out of the bag and turning it on. "Now to find a light switch."

Big D shined the flashlight around the room. He spotted a light switch on the wall, and pushed a button on it, but nothing happened. Then, he pointed his flashlight toward the ceiling, and saw the single ceiling light was missing a bulb.

"Drat it," he grumbled. "I wonder if it's possible that there's a light bulb around here . . . . . ah ha!"

Big D found a light bulb, and walked over to the low hanging light, screwing it in. Then he walked back to the switch, and turned the lights on. The room was illuminated, and Big D looked around. Another place that looked like it was falling apart. There were red apples and candy bars scattered across the floor. Big D found another note on the wall and grabbed it.

_We assumed you would be hungry by now. You'd better take everything you can. Who knows when your next meal will be. If you're lucky enough to make it to your next meal. Also, find the next map. It will lead you to your next location._

Big D jammed the note into his shoulder bag and began gathering up the apples and energy bars. Then, Big D located the map in question, and looked at it. A place labeled "Club Runner" was circled.

"That _must_ be the next location!" he shouted. Quickly, Big D ran out of the building, and followed the map to his next destination.

When Big D arrived at the building, he was met by a cloud of steam. He figured a valve must have been opened or something, and he went to turn it off, but it was stuck.

"If only I had an . . . . ." he started, looking around the room. Then he spotted something on the desk nearby.

"An oil can!" he shouted, grabbing the oil can, and squirting oil on the valve. That did the trick. He closed the valve, and the steam disappeared. Once the steam had cleared, Big D glanced around the room. He saw a poster on the wall with something written on it, but he couldn't read it.

"Russian," he said. "Now I'm _positive_ Glamorski's in on this."

Big D found another note tacked to the wall. He was getting a little tired of this.

_Check the freezer. The pass code should be around this room . . . . . somewhere._

"Very funny," Big D grumbled, and he started to gather up scraps of paper, similar to the ones he found at the other house. This time, the numbers written on the scraps had a smaller number written on the bottom right corner.

"Ah ha!" Big D shouted. "That's it. The smaller numbers on these papers indicate the correct order of the pass code."

Immediately, Big D entered the numbers into the keypad, and he was able to unlock the freezer, half expecting to find Fluey inside of it, encased in a block of ice. Much to his relief, he wasn't there. But there was a TV, a VCR, and pieces of a photograph inside of it. Quickly, Big D put them together. It was a photo of all three Impossibles playing at their last concert. Big D also noticed Fluey had been circled with a red marker, and a red arrow was pointing to the circle.

Big D then noticed there was a tape in the VCR, and he pushed the "Play" button, hoping there would be something on it to help him. There was static at first, but then an image appeared. It was Big D sitting at his desk at headquarters, looking at the sphere intently.

"How in the world were they able to take footage of _this_?!" he shouted.

Big D continued watching the tape, and noticed this video footage was of the day of the attack on headquarters.

Static came on the screen just then, and shortly thereafter, another image appeared. This time, Big D recognized Agent Benedict in an alley talking to a man wearing a black overcoat and an eyepatch. He was showing them several photos of both Fluey and Phyllis.

"All you gotta do is nab him, and the chief will do whatever you want him to do," Benedict said on the tape.

Big D was seeing red at this point. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Benedict had been with the agency for almost as long as Big D had, and now he was betraying it. Big D clenched his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. The scene ended with Benedict shaking the man in black's hand. Then the scene turned to static again, and slowly shifted into what appeared to be an apartment. Big D recognized it immediately.

"Glamorski's apartment," he said. "What in the world is going on here?"

The video Natasha in her kitchen preparing a couple of cups of coffee. She then took out a small capsule, broke it open, and poured some white powder into one of the cups.

"So that's what happened," Big D commented. "She drugged me. Well, she's not going to get away with this."

Big D continued to watch as Natasha served the coffee, and then Big D lost consciousness. Natasha then went to a table, and fired up a computer.

"All is ready, Mr. Dimetri," she said, as an image came onto the computer screen. Big D couldn't see it very well.

"He is unconscious, yes?" Dimetri's voice said.

"Da," Natasha said. "And he definitely has sphere."

"Wery good," Dimetri said. "Phase vun is now complete. You know vhat to do next."

The screen switched to static once more, and this time, the man in black from the earlier scene appeared. Fluey was also in the scene, gagged, and being held in a headlock by this man in black, who was also holding the boy's hands behind his back. Fluey was struggling to get away, but it was no use.

"Zdrahstvooyteh, Mr. Dawson," the man in black said. "I am Dimetri of the Russian Underground. I hope you enjoyed the wideo. As you can plainly see, ve have your grandson. Keep following our instructions, and you _might_ see him again. But you'll have to find us first. Your next location is the concert hall. And be quick about it! Ve're still vaitink for the sphere."

Fluey let out a scream before the tape ended. Big D heaved a sigh, and headed out for the concert hall. But he stopped when he realized something.

"They're still waiting for the sphere?" he said, repeating the line Dimetri said on the tape. "That's not even possible . . . . . unless . . . . . unless someone _else_ took the sphere before Glamorski had a chance to give it to this Dimetri person."

Big D was confused by all this. What secrets did that sphere hold? What was going on? There was only one thing Big D knew for certain. These Russian spies had the upper hand for now. If he wanted to find Fluey, he had to do everything these Russians told him, before it was too late.

If it wasn't already too late.

Big D arrived at the concert hall, and looked around. On the stage was a cardboard cutout of Natasha, with a big red X painted on her forehead. A note was attached to the cut out.

_You're doing splendidly Dawson. We've hidden a means of defense for you. You'll know it when you see it. Remember to find the map, too! There is also a list of items for you to locate. Chop, chop!_

"I'm getting a little tired of these notes," Big D grumbled.

Big D looked at the list, and began gathering the items listed. A blow torch, an aresol can, a safety pin, electrical tape, and some kind of an access card. He also noticed there were several bullets laying around, and a big chair with a letter "X" spray painted on it. Big D took the knife out of the shoulder bag and used it to cut the chair cushion. Hidden inside was a revolver.

"I may regret this later," he said, loading the bullets into the gun. "But if I want Fluid back alive, I'm going to have to do this. But first, time to show them what could happen when someone rouses my ire."

Big D aimed the revolver at the cardboard cutout, and fired.

_BANG!_

The bullet hit the cutout right between the eyes. Big D then picked up a map from the floor, and saw his next destination circled in red. When Big D reached it, he found a large, gloomy building. It looked to be like some kind of asylum. Taking a deep breath, he walked inside, and down a corridor. He walked into a room, and the word "SAFE" sprayed on the wall. Big D pondered that a little, and then spotted a safe in the corner of the room. He used every key he had collected to open it, but none of them fit. Then he saw another word spray painted on another wall. This one said "KABOOM."

"I feel like a convicted criminal doing this," Big D said, pulling the aresol can out of the shoulder bag, and sticking it to the safe with the electrical tape. He took a few steps back, pulled out the gun, and fired. The can exploded the minute the bullet hit it, and the safe door opened.

"Not the most professional safe cracking job in the world," Big D said, taking the map, as well as a can of fuel for the blow torch he had found. The map appeared to be a map of the building. His next destination was circled in red.

Big D walked into the room the map indicated and found a mannequin, with a card reader attached to it's stomach. It was also wearing some kind of mask. Big D took it off, and found yet another note.

_She'll give you more information_

Big D thought that over, and then pulled out the access card he had found. He slid it into the card reader, and waited.

"Find the keys," an automated voice said. Big D looked around the room and spotted various keys. They were all attached to a tag that had a letter on it. Quickly, Big D gathered them together. One of them was behind a glass case, along with a map. Big D used the blowtorch he found to get to them. Once he grabbed the key, and the map, he found his next destination circled in red.

"This is starting to get ridiculous," he muttered. "I don't understand _any_ of this. What in the world _happened_ to this town, anyway?"

Big D walked inside the building indicated. He found a piece of white cloth laying on the floor. It looked like something had been written on it in pink lipstick. The same shade of pink Natasha had been wearing.

_They're watching your every move. Take everything they tell you with a grain of salt. There's a key underneath the chair in this room._

Big D stuffed the cloth into his shoulder bag, and found the key in question. Then he saw yet another piece of paper taped to the wall. He grabbed it, and read it:

_Sometimes, you have to look at things differently. Violets are blue._

"These notes are starting to drive me insane," Big D grumbled. "What in the world does this person mean?!"

Big D discovered the answer to that almost immediately, when he spied a purple colored light bulb laying on the ground, and a lamp of some kind on the wall, bulb-less.

"Of course," he said. "They must have left a clue using ultra-violet light."

Big D screwed the bulb into the lamp, and turned it on. Once he did, the numbers 1 through 5 appeared on five locked boxes in the room. Big D took out the keys he found in the previous building and looked at the tags. A through E. He had to figure out which key went in which lock. But it didn't take too long to figure out.

"This should be quite like those cryptograms they give the rookies at headquarters during training," he said, taking key "A" and going toward the box marked "1." Once it unlocked, Big D used key "B" to unlock box "2," key "C" to unlock box "3," and so on down the line. Inside the boxes were a remote control, a map, a tape recorder, a diskette, and a piece of paper reading "page 217." Big D gathered everything together, and put them in the shoulder bag. He took the tape recorder and pushed a button on it.

"These things will come in handy," a Russian accented computerized voice said. "Vatch some telewision."

Big D turned off the tape recorder, and used the remote control to switch on the TV. An image of Fluey appeared, tied to a chair, gagged, and his head slumped onto his chest.

"He's somewhere in the city," that same computerized voice said. "The map will show you the way. Better hurry."

Big D found a book on the window sill. It was titled "Theory of Probability." Big D took the book, and looked up page 217.

"The category of absolutely incredible events is mainly characterized by the impossibility to avoid the consequences if said events take place," he read. "_Very_ peculiar . . . . . What does it mean, incredible events? And what does it have to do with _me_?"

Big D sighed, and unfolded the map. He found his next location quickly, and started off, getting frustrated with this whole thing. He was finding more questions than answers.

Once Big D left the building, he was met by a bright light. It was sunlight.

"This _can't_ be right," he said. He began typing in something on his wrist communicator. Sure enough, the time it gave him was eight thirty pm.

"It's eight thirty in the evening and yet . . . . the sun is still out?" he asked. "What is going _on_ here?!"

Big D grumbled, and walked to his next stop. It wasn't a building this time. It was an old bus. He climbed aboard and found another piece of paper.

_The box holds the truth. But in order for it to unlock, it needs to be warmer_

"That explains the candles all over the place," Big D commented, looking around the bus. "But the key I found . . . . where on earth does that go?"

Big D pondered that as he began picking up matches scattered around the bus. He just _had_ to find out the truth, even though he wasn't sure what to believe anymore. This so-called _truth_ may be a lie, but Big D didn't dwell on that. He had to find Fluey, and this might have been the only way. Once Big D found all the matches, he used them to light the candles. Then he approached the saucepan in the middle of the bus and opened it. Much to his surprise, there was nothing in it!

"What in the world . . . . ." he started. Suddenly, his wrist communicator went off. Big D raised it and activated it, recognizing the signal as being from Fluey's communicator.

"Big D here," he said, hoping it was Fluey calling in. Maybe he had escaped. Unfortunately, it wasn't Fluey. It was the Dimetri.

"You have seen the truth, Dawson," he said. "The truth is nothink."

"What _are_ you _talk_ing about?!" Big D demanded. "Who are you?! What have you done with my grandson?!"

But the signal broke before any of Big D's questions could be answered. Big D turned off his communicator and sat down on one of the bus seats for a moment. He needed to collect himself before continuing. He was beyond confused by this point.

"What _have_ I gotten myself into?" he asked.


	8. Rescue

As Big D sat there, he spotted a small box under one of the seats with a keyhole on it. He quickly took the key he had found in the other room, and used it. It opened. Inside was a piece of paper:

_AHA_

"Ah ha?" Big D read. "What does _that_ mean?"

Big D thought that over, and pulled out his map. There wasn't another one to be found on the bus, so he didn't quite know where to go this time. He unfolded it, and looked at it intently. Maybe "AHA" was a clue to his next destination. He suddenly discovered what the strange message meant when he saw a building on the map marked "Apartment House A."

"That's it!" he shouted. "Better get moving!"

Big D practically ran off the bus, and toward the next building. He found a scrap of paper on the floor.

_Both your lives at stake! There's a hiding place in the room._

Big D stuffed the note in the shoulder bag, and wondered about this new note, and who it was from. There was only one way to find out. Big D looked around the room for anything that would help him. He managed to find a flash drive, and a card. It was the ace of hearts, but it was black.

"Very odd," he said. "There must be more to this than meets the eye."

Big D continued looking around, and spotted a crowbar laying on the floor by the wall. He grabbed it, along with a set of film negatives. They were all blank, except one.

"It looks like some sort of storage unit," he said. "A warehouse or something. I must find that hiding place that note mentioned."

Big D looked around the room and spotted three wooden planks hammered into a section of the wall. Quickly, he used the crowbar to pry them off. This had to be the hiding place the note mentioned. When he opened the small door, he found a book inside:

_Each month, he threw a message in a bottle in the ocean, hoping at least one of them would be taken by the tide_

"Another cryptic message," Big D grumbled, closing the book. "They might have planted a false lead for me to find or something, to lead me on a wild goose chase."

Big D thought that over, until he spied a bottle on the window sill. Remembering the incident with the Shadow, he immediately grabbed it, and smashed it, revealing a rolled up piece of paper. He unrolled it, and read it.

_Remember Your Childhood_

Big D wondered about that, until he saw some building blocks scattered around the room. He quickly gathered them up. They all had different letters on them, and one had numbers. In the bottom left corner of the blocks, were the letters A through F. Remembering back to the passcode from the refrigerator, he quickly put the blocks in order. When he was finished, the blocks spelled out L E N I N 3.

"Lenin three . . . . ." Big D said. "That's it. Lenin Street number three."

Big D checked the address on the map, and found it was a warehouse. Probably the warehouse on the negative. It looked a little familiar. He then recognized it as the building he woke up in.

"This is getting downright bizarre," he said. "I only hope Fluid is all right."

Big D walked into the warehouse, and the first thing he saw was a wheel barrow holding a skull, which was on fire. He also saw a message spray painted on the wall:

_You're LATE!_

"Oh no . . . . ." Big D said. "I hope that doesn't mean . . . . . no, no, I refuse to believe it!"

Big D then noticed the skull wasn't real, and something had been written on it. He had to put out that fire. Luckily, he found an empty coffee cup on the desk, and a water cooler in the corner. He filled the cup, and doused the skull with the water. Then he grabbed the skull and read the inscription:

_Your current survival is solely because we deem it so. You are a curious specimen._

"Again with specimen," Big D said. "They're starting to make me feel like something inside of a petrie dish."

Suddenly, the lights went out, and Big D was plunged into darkness.

"Drat it," he said, pulling out his flashlight. He shined it around the room, and saw another black ace of hearts, and several sticks of dynamite. Big D gathered them all up. He couldn't explain it, but somehow, he thought he might need everything he was gathering. He looked over at the water cooler, and managed to make out something floating in it. He pulled the knife out of the bag, and stabbed the bottle with it. Water gushed out, revealing a piece of paper. Quickly, Big D read it:

_Garage. Look for instructions_

"That must be the next location," he said, and he took off running. When he reached the garage, he found a large truck. He began looking around for instructions. He ended up unearthing a cigarette lighter, and another black ace of hearts.

"These cards have to mean something," he said, putting the lighter and the card in his bag. "But what?"

Big D continued looking around until he found yet another piece of paper.

_Everything is on the flash drive._

Big D sighed, stuck the note in his bag, and pulled out the flash drive. A computer was sitting nearby, so he plugged it in. He didn't have much of a choice.

"Station eleven," he said. "Guess that's where I'm going next. Now to get this truck mobile. Too bad Agent Rogers isn't here. He'd make short work of this."

Big D certainly wasn't a mechanic, and he could only hope he could get the truck running. He discovered all it needed was some fuel, and luckily for him, there was a bottle of fuel right by the truck. He filled the tank, climbed in, and started it up.

Big D drove down a strange, deserted highway, leaving that strange city behind, and there still wasn't anybody around. Not one soul in sight.

"I feel like I'm in a bad horror movie," he grumbled. "Much like the kind Fluid's always watching on the late show. If I find out this is someone's idea of a joke, they are going to be _very_ sorry."

The road ended near another abandoned building. Big D sighed, and went in, hoping Fluey would be inside. It turned out to be extremely cold inside. There was a freezer in the middle of the room, and it appeared to be broken. The first thing Big D did was unplug it. When he unplugged it, the vapor from the cold air dispersed, and Big D found a puddle of blood on the floor. He remained calm. Nothing would come from freaking out.

"Obviously I've stumbled onto a murder scene," he said. "And there just might very well be another murder scene around here once I find the ones responsible for this, if the victim is who I think it is, but I hope isn't. Better search for some evidence."

Big D walked around the room, and found another black ace of hearts, a shell from a handgun, and several torn pieces of purple cloth stained with blood. One piece of cloth had an arrow-shaped clasp on it. Big D recognized it. It was Fluey's jacket, and it appeared to have been torn to pieces. Big D took a deep breath. He had to remain in control. He then noticed a familiar smell coming from the blood-stained cloth. On a hunch, he wiped his finger along the cloth, and tasted it.

"Ketchup," he growled. "Nothing more than ketchup. Someone's trying to be funny. Well, I am certainly _not_ amused! They must be hiding something. I'd better find out what it is."

Big D found some cleanser in the room, as well as a brush. He poured the cleanser onto the ketchup stain on the floor, and cleaned it up, revealing a hiding place in the floor. When he checked it, he found another note.

_Find the truth one piece at a time. You'll need to look through things to see past them_

"These notes are really starting to annoy me," Big D said. He looked around and saw pieces of broken glass around the room. Thinking he had nothing to lose, he gathered them up, and pieced them together, revealing what appeared to be a stained glass window, depicting a person on their knees.

"This is just mind boggling," Big D grumbled. "If I don't find out what's going on soon . . . . ."

Big D then spotted some sort of light. The note had said to look through something.

"Hmm," he said, thoughtfully. "Maybe this light combined with the stained glass will tell me what to do next."

Big D positioned the glass in the light, and figures appeared. They said 210 and 190.

"What could it mean?" he asked. Big D then checked the map he found in the garage, and noticed there numbers in a grid on it.

"Ah ha!" he shouted. "The next location is at two-ten and one-ninety! Finally, I'm getting somewhere."

The coordinates led Big D to a steel building. It looked like a library or an archive of sorts. He walked into the archives and looked around the room. He found another note there.

_Would you enjoy a little game of chess? Guess what? You don't have a choice, if you want your grandson to remain healthy. His future is now in our hands. It depends on us. Or rather, his future depends on you. Your move._

"Just _wait_ until I get my hands on these criminals!" Big D shouted. "If they had any sense, they'd know better than to trifle with me!"

Big D glanced around the room for more clues. He found a couple of binders sticking out from the shelf, but most of the information in them was illegible. Still, he _did_ manage to make something out.

"Positive results of the experiments . . . ." he read. "Test volunteers . . . . . new city . . . . . hmm. These experiments have the dates listed here. The last one was nineteen years ago."

Big D looked again, and saw a handwritten note, obviously from someone with a shaky hand:

_Nobody managed to stop it_

Big D had absolutely no idea what that meant. But he didn't dwell on that for the moment. He had to continue scouting for clues. He found yet another black ace of hearts, and an "X" on the floor, as well as a camera stand or something like it, and a mirror. There was a note on the mirror.

_Reflections_

Big D had no idea what that meant, but something told him he would find out if he placed the stand and the mirror on the X and aimed it at the window. Then, he cut the chord holding the blinds up, and once the fell, cut a small hole in them. The light reflected off the mirror, and pointed to a spot in the floor. Big D took the crowbar out of his bag, and loosened the boards. Underneath them was what looked like a manhole cover, with the words "Station 11" printed on it. He pried it open, and looked down.

"Looks like I'm going to be playing _Alice in Wonderland_," he said. "But whatever the case is, I have to keep going."

Big D climbed down the manhole, hoping it would lead him to Fluey, and soon. It seemed to go down forever. He had no idea how deep this thing was, and it made him extremely nervous. He finally reached the bottom, and started walking through a tunnel. When he reached the end, all he saw was darkness.

"Perfect," he said sarcastically, turning on the flashlight. "There must be a switch around here somewhere . . . . . ah, there it is."

Big D flipped the switch, and saw several papers taped to the walls, as well as a tape recorder. Big D gathered them up quickly. He pushed the play button on the recorder.

"Once we have the sphere, your release is assured," the voice on the tape said.

Big D then gathered up the papers, and read through them.

_The goal of this exercise, and your involvement in it is now apparent. Helping us is the only way to guarantee your grandson's continued existence. You lack the knowledge to make the proper decision. Therefore, you must comply. Give us the sphere. Failure to comply will ensure that you never see your grandson again._

Big D took a deep breath. He didn't know what to make of this, but he knew for certain that he had to get that sphere back. He had to find out why the kidnappers wanted it so badly. He found a terminal in the room, and turned it on, but the power blew.

"Must've blown a fuse," he said. "Better fix this."

Big D turned on his flashlight, and went over to the power box. He opened it, and took out the old fuses. Then he shined the light around the room, and found several fuses scattered on the floor. Some of them were burned out and useless, but he managed to find some good ones. He replaced them, and turned the lights back on. Then he went over to the terminal and turned it on.

"PC load letter?!" he shouted. "What the devil does _that_ mean?! I've had enough of this!"

Big D took the hammer out of his bag, and whacked the terminal with it. A screen appeared, and asked him what level he wanted to access. He typed in "Sphere." The doors suddenly opened. Big D grabbed a map off the wall, and a key from the floor.

"Better get going," he said. He unlocked another door, and walked inside, finding the place to be larger than he anticipated. He checked his map to determine where to go next. One room was labeled "Room of Sphere Experiments."

"Better try there," he said. "Hang in there, Fluid. I'm on my way."

Big D felt his way upward by running his hands along the walls. The silence was practically deafening, and every door Big D found was locked. There was only one room that produced something audible, and Big D went right to it. It was a dark room, but the flashlight refused to turn on. He did, however, find an illuminated screen of sorts on the floor, with an image of a hand on it. Big D touched it, and a ring of fire burst upward. Big D took a couple of steps back, coughing. He could barely breathe! He needed to find a mask or something right away. He was able to locate a respirator, which allowed him to breathe normally.

"Now to put this blasted fire out," he said. "But how?"

Big D looked around the room, and found six cards with Roman numerals on them, from one to six. He noticed the fire had six electronic devices around it. And each were labeled one to six, in Roman numerals. Immediately, Big D stuck each card into it's corresponding box. Once he got the cards in, the fire went out, and Big D could see the sphere clearly. Big D pulled a pair of gloves out of his jacket and put them on (being a former Boy Scout, he was prepared for almost anything). He then went to get the sphere, but the minute he touched it, he was transported to an empty field, with nothing in it except green grass.

"_Now_ what's going on?!" he shouted. Big D looked around a little, and spotted the sphere again. He went to grab it again, but this time, several spheres appeared.

"This is quite in_fur_iating!" he yelled. "Once I get my hands on whoever's in charge, I'll . . . . ."

Big D started mumbling under his breath, and went to find the sphere. Each one he touched disappeared right before his eyes. It was starting to get annoying. Finally, he grabbed the right one, and was transported back to the room he had come from.

"This is starting to give me a headache," he said, as he started walking away, going back the way he came, but he was starting to feel lost. The ceiling seemed to be getting lower. He was determined not to panic, but it took a lot of control. As he was walking, faster and faster, his back caught on something, tripped, and crashed through the planks on the floor. He landed hard, banged his head, and lost consciousness.

Big D came to some time later, but with a splitting headache. He was feeling dizzy and slightly disoriented. He shook his head out to regain composure, and rubbed his head.

"I'm getting too old for this," he said. "Where's that bag? I have to get out of here and find Fluid before it's too late."

Big D found the bag quickly, and gathered everything he had found throughout this trip: the gun, the knife, the dynamite, the hammer, the wrench, the cards, the marker, the flashlight, the lighter, and finally that crazy sphere.

"If I'm lucky to live another ten years after this," he mumbled, "I'm going to look back on this and laugh."

Big D stowed everything in the bag, and looked around for a way out. He saw a door in the ceiling, and what looked like a broken ladder leading to it. He also spotted several planks and nails around the floor. He gathered them up quickly, and climbed.

"Finally," he said.

Big D climbed until he reached the surface, and tried to call Fluey's wrist communicator, but no one was answering. Big D figured whoever was holding him had confiscated it, or turned it off, or even both. There was a large building nearby, and he saw an antennae on it.

"Yes, that _could_ work," Big D said, thoughtfully. "Dr. Johnson said the boys' communicators could be traced through any large antennae signal, even if they were turned off."

Big D ran into the building. It was deserted (Big D wasn't at all surprised), but the equipment was still working.

"Time for a crash course in telecommunications," Big D said, cracking his knuckles. "The sooner I figure this out, the sooner I'll find Fluid."

Big D began fiddling with the wires and switches. He also came across a couple of binders. Everything that had been going on for the past few days or so was in those binders, from Big D's meeting with Vladimir, Vladimir's murder, Benedict's betrayal, Fluey's kidnapping, and Big D's "date" with Natasha.

"I wonder just how long they've been spying on me?" he asked. "No time to think of that now. Time to work."

Big D turned on the machine, but an infrared light appeared around a pyramid made of cards. He took the cards he found and placed them on top of the pyramid. Then the screen on the wall activated.

"Hmm, so that's what those were for," he said. "But I wonder who hid them in the first place? It couldn't have been Fluid. Could it? Has he gone out of his way to play an elaborate joke on me?"

Big D then typed the coordinates of Fluey's wrist communicator, and the computer told him he was about nine hundred meters away.

"Well, it doesn't tell me much," Big D said. "But it _does_ at least point me in the right direction."

Big D found a map and looked at it. Everything on it was exactly nine hundred meters away. He was surrounded by forests, and a graveyard. And it was the graveyard that was circled. That wasn't a good sign.

"I should have _known_ I'd wind up there sooner or later," he groaned. "I'd better hurry! But before I do, I'd better take care of this machine."

Big D took the sticks of dynamite out of his bag, and placed them at the wires of the machine. Then he took out the lighter he found, and used it to light the dynamite. Then he ran out of the building as fast as he could. He just made it out when the place finally blew sky high. Then he took a deep breath, and ran for the graveyard, his hope fading with every step.

"He _has_ to still be alive," he said. "I know it."

Big D entered the crypt marked on the map, nervously. It was dark, but there were torches around. Big D needed to find something to light them up with. He found an oil can in the corner, and poured some of it into the torches. Then he took the lighter from his bag, and lit them. Big D looked around the crypt, and found an angel statue standing before a coffin. There was a piece of paper taped to the statue. Immediately, Big D grabbed it.

_All actions have consequences. Better hurry and find the key._

Big D crumpled up the note and tossed it over his shoulder. He began frantically searching the crypt. He finally found a bucket in the corner of the room filled with soil. An "X" had been painted onto it.

"Of course," he said, grabbing a nearby shovel. "X marks the spot."

Big D began digging the soil out of the bucket as fast as he could, and as carefully as he could, so he wouldn't accidentally lose the key.

"Here it is!" he shouted. He grabbed it, and ran over to the coffin, unlocking it, but the lid was stuck. Big D grabbed the crowbar from his bag, and used it to pry the lid off. What he saw nearly gave him a heart attack. There was Fluey, laying unconscious in the coffin. Wasting no time, Big D grabbed his grandson, and lifted him out of the coffin, and lay him on his back on the floor. Then he checked his vital signs.

"He's not breathing," he said. "Thank heavens I know CPR."

Immediately, Big D pressed on Fluey's chest to get his heart going. After he had done that three times, he pinched the teen's nose shut, tilted his head upward, and breathed into his mouth. He kept this up for what seemed like an eternity, and finally, Fluey began to cough. He sat up slowly, and began taking deep breaths.

"Thank goodness that worked," Big D said, heaving a sigh of relief. Then he noticed Fluey was shivering a bit. Big D took off his jacket, and wrapped it around the dark-haired teenager's shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Y-y-y-yeah," Fluey said, still shivering a bit. "I th-th-think so."

"Come on. Let's get out of this crypt."

"And out of this city."

Big D nodded, and helped Fluey to his feet. Then, the two of them left the crypt.

"This is really weird," Fluey said, looking around. "It's the middle of July, and this place is covered with snow, and _freezing_!"

"I'm aware of that," Big D said.

Big D said nothing else, and walked along the road. They had been walking around for hours, but they were getting nowhere. Fluey was starting to nod off.

"I think we're going around in circles," he said, stifling a yawn.

"I think you're right," Big D said. "I hate to admit it, but I'm a bit stumped. If I knew how I got here, maybe I'd be able to find a way out, but I don't know how I got here."

"Don't look at me," Fluey said. "They whacked me upside the head and knocked me out cold the minute we got out of the Megatropolis city limits, and I've _still _got the headache from that! You know something, chief? This city _really_ gives me the creeps!"

"I'm in full agreement on that, Fluid. Be_lieve_ me!"

"It's really weird . . . . we've been walking around for hours now, and the sun hasn't moved. Where _are_ we?"

"I don't know. Come on. We'd better keep moving. I'm sure we'll find a way out sooner or later."

Fluey nodded, and followed Big D down the deserted street, though he was getting more and more nervous by the second. A few more hours passed, and Fluey finally had it. He couldn't go any further, and collapsed to his knees.

"I gotta stop, chief!" he shouted. "I can't go on!"

"If we want to get out of here, we have to keep moving," Big D said.

"But I just can't make it!"

Big D was about to say something, when he noticed Fluey began shivering again, and his teeth began chattering. Big D knew his grandson just simply could _not_ take extreme cold at all, even when he _wasn't_ in his superhero form. Immediately, Big D's parental instincts took over.

"We'd better find some shelter," he said. "And hopefully, it will be a warm shelter. We'll get some rest, and then continue on our way, all right?"

Fluey nodded, and Big D pulled him to his feet, and guided him down the street. Unfortunately, they didn't get very far. A gunshot rang out from apparently out of nowhere. Fluey screamed, and latched onto Big D. Big D wrapped his arms around his grandson's shoulders, and held him close. He looked toward where he heard the gunshot sound, and saw several men in fatigues and combat boots standing around, all holding guns.

"We'd better run, chief!" Fluey shouted.

"Good thinking," Big D said, and he and Fluey ran off for the moment. They were outnumbered and out-armed. It was the only thing they could do.

The men began chasing after them and shooting. Big D and Fluey ducked behind an alley, and the men chasing them ran past it.

"I think we lost them," he said.

"Good," Fluey said, breathlessly, leaning against the chief. "Because I don't think I can run anymore. I feel so . . . . so . . . ."

Fluey trailed off, and passed out. Big D lifted him into his arms, and carried him down the alley.

"We've got to get you somewhere safe," he said.

Big D walked around a little, and finally spotted an old house. He quickly ran inside. Like the rest of the city, it was abandoned. But the windows had Big D worried. All the spies had to do was look in one of them, and they'd be caught. Big D took Fluey down a flight of stairs and into the basement. There weren't any windows down there, so those Russian spies wouldn't be able to find them. There wasn't any heat source, either, but Big D managed to find several wooden planks around, and he still had the oil can from the crypt, and the lighter. He glanced around the basement, and spotted an old mattress on the floor. He put Fluey down on it, gathered the planks, and started a fire. Fluey woke up after a few seconds, and started to get up, but Big D pushed him back down.

"You should rest now," he said, sitting down next to his grandson. He dug into his shoulder bag and unearthed a candy bar he had left. He unwrapped it and handed it to Fluey.

"How long do you think it'll take before we're out of here, chief?" Fluey asked, biting into the candy.

"It's hard to say," Big D said, pacing the floor. "And I'm still trying to figure out _what_ we're doing here. I really don't understand what these people want the sphere for. We'll have to solve the mysteries first. It's odd, though. The more information I find, the more questions I have. I don't understand it."

Fluey didn't say anything. He just yawned, closed his eyes, and went to sleep, almost immediately. He was so tired, he didn't care if that mattress was filled with rocks. He could sleep on anything at this point. Big D found a blanket in the corner of the room, draped it over Fluey's shoulders, and stroked his hair for a few moments.

"No matter what happens," he said, "I promise you, Fluid, I'll get at least you out of here. Even if it's the last thing I ever do, I _will_ see to it you return home."


	9. The Cube

Fluey woke up a few hours later, but he was a little groggy, and still cold. The fire had gone out some time ago, and Big D wasn't anywhere.

"Chief!" he called out nervously. "Chief, where are you?!"

"Right here," Big D said, running into the room. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Sorry," Fluey said, a little sheepishly. "I woke up and you weren't around, and I panicked."

"It's all right. We're both a little tense because of this place."

Fluey didn't say anything. He just started shivering all over again. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and rested his head on them. Big D figured he was just tired. He didn't blame him. After all, Fluey had been through quite an ordeal already, even if he didn't know most of the details. Then he saw Fluey was starting to shake. Again, Big D didn't think much of it. He was probably still feeling a bit cold from the weather. But Big D's parental instincts were telling him something. This wasn't a cold and tired agent he was looking at. It was a worried, scared, distressed child. Big D sat down next to his grandson, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Fluey said, not bothering to look up.

"Your father used to do the same thing. He never liked to admit something was bothering him. Now come on, what's the matter?"

Fluey bit his lower lip, and then looked over at Big D.

"Well . . . ." he said, swallowing hard. "What happens if . . . . . if . . . . ."

"If what?"

"If we _can't_ find a way out of here? What if we're trapped in this creepy city forever?"

"We won't be. I promise you, we'll get home."

"But _how_?! We don't even know where we _are_! We don't know how we got here. And those Russian guys are after us. They're ready to _kill_ us over that stupid sphere . . . . . and we don't even know what it does, or why they want it . . . . and the others don't know where we are, and . . . . and . . . ."

Big D didn't answer. He just pulled Fluey close to him, and held him. He stroked the teenager's hair gently, trying to comfort him.

"Calm down," he said. "Just calm down. Everything's all right now. Everything will be fine."

"But . . . . but how can you be so sure?" Fluey asked.

"You just have to trust me, Fluid. Remember the Shadow incident? Did I let you down then?"

"No."

"That's right. And I won't let you down now. We'll get out of this mess, and we'll get back home. You'll see."

Fluey just nodded, and began shaking all over again. Big D knew it was from the cold this time. He took the old blanket and wrapped it around Fluey's shoulders.

"What do we do now?" Fluey asked.

"I'm going back up there," Big D said. "I'm determined to find out everything I can about that sphere."

"Good luck," Fluey said. "I'm staying here."

"I'm not sure about that. It might be safer if we stick together."

"Come on, Big D. Can't I just stay here? I'm wiped out, and I'll just slow you down. Besides, I don't want anything to do with this place!"

Big D thought about it, and eventually gave in. He knew Fluey wasn't feeling so good, and he was in no shape to be wandering around this strange place, especially if they ran into those gun men again.

"I don't like it," he said. "But you win. I'll be back later. Just promise me, no matter what, you stay right where you are."

"Gotcha, chief," Fluey said. "Don't worry about me. I don't think I can move much, anyway."

"Leave your communicator turned on. Just in case you need to reach me, or I need to reach you. I'm not about to take chances."

"Right. Be careful, chief."

Fluey switched on his communicator. Big D patted his grandson's shoulder reassuringly, and then left the old house. As he wandered around the city, he began wondering if he made the right decision leaving Fluey by himself. Now he wished he _did_ have some of the agents with him. But there was no changing that now. As he was wandering, his wrist communicator went off.

"Big D here," he said.

"What was stolen must be returned," a voice said. "We always keep our word."

The signal broke just then. Big D wasn't sure what exactly that meant. As he pondered that, a piece of paper with an address fluttered toward him.

_Go here. You'll find more information_

Thinking he didn't have anything to lose (yet), Big D went to the address, and found something there that wasn't on any of the other buildings in this weird city. A lock on the door. There was a lock pick laying on the ground with a note attached to it.

_Use this_

Big D immediately picked up the lock pick, and kneeled down so the lock on the door was at eye level.

"I hope I can figure this out," he said. "I'm sure Agent Multi would be able to get in here in no time at all, considering he's an expert at lock picking."

Big D fiddled with the lock pick until he heard something click. The lock opened, and Big D ran inside. There were papers strewn all over the place, and photographs were scattered all over the floor. Big D picked them up, and looked though them.

"This is unusual," he said. "Every one of these are photos of scientists. But why are they working in some of these, and in others appear as if they just collapsed?"

Big D then found another note taped to the wall. He grabbed it, and read it.

_Forgive me for keeping these secrets from you. I still want to help. I've left my strong box in the room. Use the lock pick to open it. We will rendez-vous later. And take the ultraviolet light with you._

"I wish I knew who this mysterious note writer is," Big D said, picking up a UV light from the floor, and stuffing it in his shoulder bag. Then he walked over to a strong box in the corner of the room. He took the lock pick and began fiddling with the lock until it opened. But the minute he grabbed the papers inside of it, his wrist communicator went off again.

"Hello?" he asked. Unfortunately, all he saw was static.

"What was stolen must be returned," the voice he heard earlier said. "We always keep our word."

Big D immediately disconnected. This whole thing was freaking him out, big time. He immediately looked at the documents he had found inside the strong box. They looked like drawings of some kind of ancient temple, and one had a circle on it.

"Well, this doesn't tell me much," he said. "But it may come in handy further down the line. In the meantime, I'd better get check on Fluid."

Big D lifted his arm, and punched in something on his wrist communicator.

"Big D calling Agent Fluid," he said. "Come in, Fluid."

Nothing. Not even static. This only told Big D that Fluey's wrist communicator was turned off.

"I _told_ him to leave it on," he grumbled. "Why doesn't that boy ever listen to me?"

Big D suddenly got a sinking feeling. Fluey wouldn't have turned off his communicator just like that. In fact, the chief _saw_ him activate it. Something wasn't right. He immediately ran back to the abandoned house, and found the front door open. Big D raced inside, and down the stairs into the basement. The room was a mess, as if there had been a struggle. Fluey's wrist communicator was also on the floor, and it had been smashed to pieces. Fluey was nowhere in sight.

"Fluid!" he called out at the top of his voice. "Fluid, where are you?! Answer me!"

Nothing. The only thing Big D could hear was his echo. He called Fluey a couple more times, but he didn't get anything. Immediately, Big D began searching the room, looking for a clue or something. He went upstairs, and found a note taped to the window.

_Every breath you take, every move you make, every step you take, we'll be watching you. And we're warning you, surrender the sphere, or else you'll never EVER see your grandson again!_

Big D had to remain calm, but it wasn't easy. Somehow or another, the Russian Underground found the abandoned house and captured Fluey again. They would do anything to get that sphere. Big D then spied a map on the floor, and picked it up. A red circle had been drawn around one of the buildings on it with a red arrow pointing to it.

_Go here. I've left something for you._

"I wonder who's leaving these other notes," Big D said, shoving the note in his pocket. "The handwriting is completely different. Only one way to find out."

Big D went down half a block and found a cafe. It was abandoned (no big surprise there), except for a piece of paper and a cup of coffee. Big D took the paper.

_Hello. You cannot escape us. We're always watching. Drink this coffee if you want to find a way out of here._

Big D picked up the cup hesitantly. After what happened at Natasha's apartment, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to drink another drop of coffee again. But he downed the coffee anyway. And, just as he suspected, he lost consciousness almost immediately after drinking it.

When Big D finally woke up, he found himself in that same cell he woke up in the first time, and with one monster of a headache.

"Looks like it's back to the old drawing board," he muttered. "Where's an Aspirin when you need it?"

Big D found a medicine bottle nearby, and swallowed a couple of pills. His headache disappeared almost immediately.

"I'll have to take these pills and have Johnson analyze them," he said. "They're simply amazing. But whatever they've been putting in that coffee is some strong stuff. I just hope they're not using it on Fluid."

Then, Big D saw a note tacked up on the wall. He sighed, and took it.

"Here we go again," he said.

_Welcome back. It's time you understand that your entire future is predetermined. This time, the city isn't so empty, or is it safe. Tread carefully. We look forward to the safe return of that which you stole. If you survive._

"Very funny," Big D grumbled. He retrieved his bag from the floor, and slung it over his shoulder. Then, he noticed glass shards on the floor.

"A broken mirror," he said. "Better gather up the pieces. I've a feeling they _might_ come in handy."

Big D immediately gathered the pieces, and put them together. A letter "X" was drawn on it with pink lipstick, the same shade Natasha had been wearing. There were several more X's on the wall. Big D grabbed the UV light out of his bag, turned it on, and held it close to the X's. Slowly, letters began to appear.

"N, I, G, H, T," he said, once he saw the letters. "Night. What could it mean? And who left this message?"

Big D thought that over, and then spotted a security camera.

"I'd better take care of that," he said. He pulled out the gun and fired.

KA-BLAM!

"You won't be watching me this time, comrades!" he said, stowing the gun in the bag. Then, he lifted the latch to the door, and found another lock.

"Lovely," Big D grumbled. "Another lock. I'll have to get Agent Multi to teach me how to do this."

Big D crouched down, pulled out the pick, and fiddled. Finally, it clicked, and he continued on his way. As he was walking up the stairs, he suddenly got the strangest feeling he wasn't alone. He entered a room, and saw the silhouette of someone holding a gun, aimed right at him. Without a moment's hesitation, Big D whipped out his gun and fired. Unfortunately, his aim was way off, and he hit the wall, but the shot _did_ startle the stranger, and he dropped his weapon.

"Hey, whoa, hold it, hold it," the stranger said. Big D noticed he had a thick, Australian accent. "No need to get hostile, mate. Just heard a shot downstairs and decided to investigate."

"Who are you?" Big D asked, still aiming his gun. After what he had been through so far, he wasn't sure if he was ready to trust _any_one!

"Call me Tracker," the stranger said. "I'm lookin' for a bloke with this sphere . . . . . you're the bloke, right?"

"Why?"

"You want to see how it works? All you gotta do is direct it at this cube."

Tracker pulled out a cube. Big D looked at it, and then pulled out the sphere, though he was probably going to regret it. As soon as Big D directed the sphere to the cube, an image formed inside of it. It looked like it was Tracker shooting an unknown woman. Big D suddenly began feeling dizzy, and his knees buckled. He felt a terrible pain, but he couldn't describe it. It was almost as if someone was cutting out his soul with a knife or something.

"You look a bit pale there, mate," he heard Tracker comment.

"What's . . . . . . happening?" Big D asked.

"You just saw the future," Tracker went on. "That's what the sphere does. It lets you see into the future. Here's a pill for ya. Just take it and you'll feel better."

Big D reached up toward Tracker's outstretched hand, and grabbed the round yellow pill. He swallowed it, and amazingly, the room immediately stopped spinning, and the pain subsided.

"Incredible," he said. "Just incredible. One thing's for sure, I am _not _planning on using that sphere again!"

Big D then started to look around the room. He found several apples and candy bars lying there, as well as several diskettes, and a screwdriver. He gathered them all as quickly as possible. There also happened to be a computer in the room. He walked over to it, and put the diskettes in it, one at a time.

"Listen, Pops," Tracker said, suddenly. "There's something you should know about this city. It's a silent tragedy. No map will mark it, no one will say the name. You'll understand soon enough."

"All right then," Big D said.

Tracker then left, and Big D continued along. He _had_ to find out what in the world was going on here. He went up to the attic to see if he could get any more details there. When he got there, he found a note.

_Congratulations. Your behavior has been predicted. Notice the beverage in this room. Your lady friend left it for you._

"Lady friend?" Big D said, quite confused. "_What_ lady friend?"

Big D quickly found a cup filled with coffee on a table. There was a message written on the cup.

_Drink this to kill the time_

"Why am I suddenly reminded of _Alice in Wonderland_?" Big D asked himself. But, he took the cup, and drank the coffee anyway. Thankfully, there were no ill effects afterwards, but he did notice something written on the bottom of the cup.

_Safe_

Big D thought about that for a moment, until he spotted a safe in the room. He pulled out the lock pick, and began to unlock it.

"There we go," he said, once he heard the lock click. "Now what did the message mean by kill the time?"

Big D opened the safe, and found an alarm clock inside of it. He then spotted a hammer on the floor.

"Oh I get it," he said. "Kill the time. Ha, ha. Very funny. Sounds like one of Fluid's gosh-awful puns. Well, no time like the present."

Big D picked up the hammer and smashed the clock. A message was hidden inside.

_Sorry about the confusion of this. I can't give you my name or my location at this time. We'll rendez-vous later. In the meantime, I've left some books and some dice for you. They should give you a clue on what to do next. Just remember this order. Page, Line, Word. The books are color coded to match the dice._

"Do they think this is some kind of game?" Big D asked. "And how can I be sure whoever left this note is telling the truth? I'm just going to have to go with it."

Big D sighed, and started gathering up colored dice he found scattered around the floor. The magenta dice had scratch marks on them, but only on one side. The first die had the letter "A" scratched onto the side with three dots. The second had the letter "B" scratched into the six dot side. The third had the letter "C" scratched into the five dot side. He then found the corresponding book, and looked up the numbers.

"Page three, line six, word five," he said. "Lenin. Something tells me I'm going to be heading for Lenin Street again."

Big D then found some blue dice. Again, they had A, B, and C scratched onto them. The numbers revealed were 1, 2, and 4.

"Page one, line two, word four," Big D said, finding the corresponding book. "Six. All right, that's something."

Big D then spotted three yellow dice around the floor. Once more, they were scratched with A, B, and C. The numbers were 2, 4, and 3.

"Page two, line four, word three," he said, picking up the matching book. "Fifteen. Hmmm. What could that mean? Only one way to find out."

Big D found a wrench and a crowbar nearby. He used the wrench to loosen a set of bolts on the wall, and the crowbar to remove the metal covering the bolts were holding, revealing a hole in the wall. Big D used it as his exit. Then he looked at his map. He found a location on it with the address Lenin Street 6.

"That's it," he said. "A psychiatric hospital? I don't like the sound of this . . . . ."

Big D stuffed the map into his bag, and walked off. He found the building, and went inside room number fifteen. There, he found two scientists laying on the floor. They looked like they were unconscious. Big D went to check them, but he couldn't wake them up.

"Looks like they're comatose," he said. "What could have happened?"

Big D looked around the room, and found a bottle of liquid ammonia.

"This should do the trick," he said. He opened the bottle, and waved it under the nose of one of the scientists. Unfortunately, it didn't work. He tried again with the other one, but he didn't react either.

"It's no use," he said. "There's no way to help them."

Big D sighed, and put the bottle on the table. He looked around the room, and found a handkerchief, inscribed with pink lipstick.

_Open the wardrobe and get the special grout. There's something on the walls for you. You must find out everything for yourself in order for you to understand what's going on here. Only because you definitely won't believe me._

"This is getting insane," Big D grumbled. He walked over to the wardrobe and saw it was boarded up. He pulled out the crowbar and pried the boards off it. He grabbed the regent from the cabinet, and used it on the walls. Odd symbols appeared on it. One looked like an arrow pointing down and the other looked like a ladder of sorts. Big D pondered that a little and then saw a poster on the wall. A hand was holding a yellow pill, like the kind Tracker gave him. And there was a cube on the floor underneath the desk, like the one Tracker had.

"I know I said I'd never do this again," Big D said, taking out the sphere. "But . . . . ."

Big D aimed the sphere at the cube, and the image began to take shape. When Big D saw it, he nearly dropped the sphere to the floor in shock. The image depicted both him, and Fluey, but Big D looked dead. It was the same image from his recurring nightmare. The final image he always saw before he woke up. He remembered Tracker saying the sphere lets whoever looks into it via the cube sees the future. Big D wondered if this horrible scene _was_ his future, when suddenly, a crippling pain seized him, and he felt the room starting to spin, and he started to lose consciousness.

"The pill . . . . ." he said. "I need . . . . . that pill!"

Big D managed to make out the pill sitting on the desk. He grabbed it and swallowed it immediately. Once everything stopped spinning, Big D found a binder on the floor by the computer. There was a document inside, and Big D went through it.

_The medicine's benefits are only sufficient during the early stages of the experiment. Due to the large number of subjects available, improvement of the medication is irrelevant. Further reports concerning the sphere's features can be found on the computer in the lab._

"Looks like it's time for me to start taking things apart and putting them back together," Big D said, closing the binder and taking out the screwdriver. He took the hard disk out of the computer on the floor, and hooked it up to the laptop sitting on the desk. There was only one readable file there.

_The findings of the artifact exceed our wildest expectations. Its chemical compounds are earthly in composition, but its age greatly exceeds the existence of mankind._

Big D then went to a map of the hospital, and then understood the clue from the grout. It was pointing him to the basement.

"It's always the basement," he said. "I might have known. If we manage to get out of this, I am forbidding that boy to watch those late night horror movies again!"

As he started to leave, he felt something heavy whack him in the back of the head, and hard, knocking him out cold.


	10. Friend or Foe

Big D woke up some time later, with a splitting headache.

"Now what?" he asked. He got up, and found a piece of paper tacked to the wall.

_You're closer to us now than you have ever been before_

"What in the world does _that_ mean?!" Big D shouted. "How much more am I going to have to go through?"

Big D's eyes finally adjusted to the light, and he saw a silhouette in the doorway. She came into the light, and Big D recognized her as the woman he saw in the sphere when he activated it earlier with Tracker.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Why are you following me?"

"I've been waited a long time for you to wake up," she said. "I'll give you a choice. Die here and now, or look into the sphere for me."

"Well . . . . ." Big D said. "Given the choice . . . . ."

Big D took the sphere out of the bag, and directed it at the cube this strange woman was holding. An image appeared. It was Tracker and this strange woman, only this time, it was the woman who was victorious in the battle. Big D suddenly felt the effects of the sphere again, and sank to his knees. He managed to see several pills laying around the floor, and groped around, trying to grab them. He swallowed one, but it wasn't enough. He grabbed a second one, and it still wasn't enough to fight off the effects. He found a third, and that one did it.

"So long," the woman said, as she started to leave. "You've served your purpose, I'll leave you now. But if you ever get in my way, I'll kill you."

The woman left then. Big D stared after her as if she were crazy.

"Charming lady, really," he said, rolling his eyes. Now, let's see what I can find of use around here."

Big D looked around, and first found several folders. One contained information on him, another on the Russian Underground, and another had the name "Tracker" on it. The Russian Underground and Tracker folders were empty.

"Apparently, she'd been following me," he said. "And she must be keeping the information on the Underground and Tracker to herself. I'll worry about them later."

Big D then found an envelope on the floor. It was empty, and he couldn't make out much of what was written on it. All he could manage to read was "Narnia."

"Narnia," he said. "I wonder if that was that strange woman? Oh well."

Big D searched the room a little more, and located a knife and a gun. He didn't particularly like using weapons, but he felt he didn't have a choice. The people he had been dealing with lately would take more than martial arts to dispatch them. Big D then went to the door, and began picking the lock on it with the lockpick. It finally opened, but the lockpick broke.

"Of all the luck," he grumbled. "Oh well. I'll just have to make due."

Big D went to open the door, but it still wouldn't open. He sighed, and slammed his shoulder against it about five times, until it finally opened. There was a note on the doorframe.

_Meet me at Apartment House A._

"Apartment house A," he said, as he started running. "The way my luck is running, this person won't even be there. Maybe making me crazy is all part of this game of theirs."

Big D made it to the apartment house, and went inside. There, he found none other than Natasha Glamorski waiting for him.

"Hello, Babushkins," she said.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" Big D shouted.

"Shhh!" Natasha hissed. "Relax, Babushkins. I vant to help you. You can trust me."

"After what you pulled? How do I know this isn't some trick?"

"I've been leavink notes for you. I know you have a lot of questions, but I can't answer them all. I know that terrible things vere goink on here, things that vill haunt me for wery vell maybe the rest of my life. But there is somethink I can give you. This disk has a record of vhat I have found."

And with that, Natasha gave Big D a disck, and he fired up the computer in the room. A picture came into the screen.

"Looks like an archaeological dig," Big D said, looking up at the picture. "Judging from the light, the scientists in this photo are probably deep under the ground."

"Here's somethink else," Natasha said, handing Big D an object.

"Another one of those blasted cubes," Big D growled.

"This artifact vas found underground," Natasha said. "It vas used to distort time. I have no idea vhere it came from, or who owns it. But usink it produces dangerous side effects!"

"Yes, I am aware of it," Big D said, inserting the disk into the computer. Then he pulled up the file and read through it.

"What is this?" Big D asked, and he started to read the data. "Male of seventeen years, six exposures to lethal outcome. Male of twenty-nine years, four exposures to lethal outcome . . . . . . What does it mean exposure to lethal outcome?"

"Ve should split up," Natasha said, handing Big D a map.

"Very well," Big D said. Then he turned to Natasha. "We'll rendez-vous later."

Natasha nodded, and she left the apartment house. Big D waited fifteen minutes, and then left himself. He wasn't sure he trusted Natasha, but he didn't have much choice.

Big D went to the location Natasha had marked on the map, but it was dark. He shined the flashlight around, but the batteries were dying.

"There must be some way to light this room," he said. Big D looked around and found four flares laying on the floor. He took them, and threw them to the floor. Once the flares hit, they lit up.

"That's more like it," he said. He looked around the room, and spotted what appeared to be a Rubik's cube laying on the floor. When he picked it up, he saw something written on it:

_Sphere_

_ Terror_

_ Sphere_

"Odd," Big D said. "What could this . . . . never mind. I don't think I even want to know."

Big D searched the room a little more, and found yet _another_ note on the wall.

_To complete the cause and effect relationship, a magnifying glass is required. Many thanks in advance for your cooperation_.

"I'm getting tired of this," Big D said, picking up a magnifying glass, as well as a couple of batteries. Then he checked his map again. Natasha had marked the psychiatric building as the next place to go. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he had no choice.

Big D arrived at the asylum, and went into the lab. Sure enough, there was a piece of paper there on the wall.

_It seems that easy things must often be completed in a complex manner. You will know why very soon._

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Big D said. Then, he walked over to a computer and tried to access the information on it, but it wouldn't allow him in.

"Input password," he read. "But how do I _find_ the password?"

Big D looked around the room, and found two cans of paint. One was phosphorous paint, and the other was ultra-violet paint.

"Something tells me there's something hidden here," he said. Then, he turned off the lights. The minute he turned them off, he saw a message on the wall.

_Please HELP!!_

There were also several X's around the room. Big D figured those were the spots where the UV paint was. He quickly pulled out the UV lamp, and used it on the X's on the wall. He found arrows pointing to various places on the wall. He used the magnifying glass to inspect it, and found five shapes resembling letters:

"T, R, I, C, K," he said. "Trick. I wonder . . . . ."

Big D went back to the computer, and typed in the word "Trick" in the password field. Sure enough, a file came up on the screen. It was some kind of log.

_Emotional state of the experimental city is stable at 73 percent. 97 percent of the attempts to escape from the city are appropriately handled. 34 percent of the citizen resources are currently being utilized._

"This case just keeps getting stranger and stranger," Big D grumbled. "Where am I going now?"

Big D pulled out his map, and found the next location circled. It was a militia post. When Big D got there, he found a note on the wall. He grabbed it, and read through it.

_Soon everything will become clear. Your trip will conclude after_

"After what?!" Big D shouted, getting more and more infuriated by the second.

Big D checked a filing cabinet for anything useful. He found a flash drive, and stuck it into his bag. He'd have to find a computer soon. Then he spotted another note on another drawer of the cabinet.

_Traffic lights, driving colors. AND BE CAREFUL!!!!!_

Nervously, Big D opened the drawer, and found what appeared to be a bomb, ticking loudly, set to go off any minute.

"I've got to defuse this thing!" he shouted, taking it out of the drawer. Now was not the time to panic. He had seen SSHQ bomb squad trainees lose it under pressure of disarming the training bombs (which weren't really dangerous, they just produced a large amount of red ink when they exploded). He knew if he cracked, he'd likely cut the wrong wire. Luckily for him, he knew exactly what to do. After all, he had been trained in all areas of expertise at the SSHQ (you don't become chief by sitting behind a desk doing paperwork, you know).

Big D looked at the bomb carefully. He wasn't exactly sure which wire to cut. There was a red wire, a yellow wire, and a green wire. Time was running out. Suddenly, he remembered what the note had said.

"Traffic lights . . . . . driving colors . . . ." he said. "That's it!"

Quickly, Big D cut the green wire of the bomb, and it fizzled. He took a deep breath, and leaned against the wall for a moment.

"I swear, I do _not_ like that part of this line of work," he said. "Thank goodness I was never required to go out with the bomb squad."

Big D then left the building, and walked along the city until he came to an old abandoned computer store. The place was covered in snow. Big D figured this was where that nut was getting the tape recorders and things. He found a broom in the corner and began sweeping the snow away. He found a computer that was working, and installed the flash drive. He opened the file on it, and read an article about attacks of schizophrenia attacks, with symptoms including claims of snow, and time being stopped. It was believed to be caused by psychoenergy from exposure to the "artifact."

"And that exposure must be affecting both Fluid _and_ myself," Big D said. "Since both of us has noticed the sun hasn't set once while we've been here, and this snow. Best to keep moving."

Big D raced to the rendez-vous point in order to tell Natasha what he had learned. He was greatly relieved that this was merely just an illusion. He found the rendez-vous point happened to be the old house he had tried hiding out in.

"Oh, there you are, Babushkins," Natasha said, coming into the room.

"Yes, hello," Big D said. "Why did you have me come back here?"

"Did you inwestigate this place after they kidnapped your grandson?" Natasha asked.

"How did you know they . . . . ." Big D started.

"They veren't the only vuns vatchink you, Babushkins."

Natasha then pointed up toward the corner of the room, and saw a camera.

"Do you know where they took him?" Big D asked.

"Nyet, I didn't see that much," Natasha said. "And I couldn't tell who did it wery vell, either."

"Drat it," Big D growled. Then he saw a knife embedded in the wall. He recognized it as Narnia's. He also noticed bullet holes in the walls, and shells scattered all over the place.

"Obviously, someone's not a very good shot," Big D said, as he saw three bullet holes and three shells. Then he looked at the security camera on the wall. A light bulb went off over his head, as he got an idea.

"Ah ha, that's it," he said, pulling the wrench out. "That camera might have caught the kidnapping on tape."

Big D stood on a chair to reach the camera and began unscrewing the bolts holding it to the wall.

"Here is vire, Babuskins," Natasha said, picking up something off the floor. "It should connect to the audio. Ve do not have wideo vire, though."

"Maybe the audio will be good enough," Big D said, taking the wire, and the camera over to a small television set on the desk. But when he got there, he realized he had absolutely _no_ idea what to do next!

"Vhat's wrong?" Natasha asked.

"I don't have the slightest idea how to hook this up," Big D said. "I know Fluid does, but he's not here."

"Oh, don't vorry about that, Babuskins," Natasha said. "I'll do it. I know how it vorks."

Natasha took the wire and the camera and connected them to the television set. Then she found a remote control and turned it on. Just as Natasha said, they only got the audio, and no picture.

Big D listened for a few moments, as he heard a door open, and footsteps coming in. He heard another set of footsteps and another door open.

"Chief?" Fluey's voice asked. "Is that you?"

There were a few seconds of silence, and then the sound of gun fire. Then he heard Fluey let out a blood curdling shriek.

"Who are you?!" he heard Fluey yell. "Let go of me!"

Big D then heard something fall to the floor, and what sounded like a foot stomping, and the sound of an electrical device on the fritz. That explained Fluey's smashed communicator. Then, he heard another person entering the room. Then, there were sounds of a fight going on. A cabinet opened and slammed shut.

"You little . . . . ." a voice growled.

"Let me go!" Fluey's voice yelled. Big D listened intently as the sound of Fluey's screams were suddenly muffled. Then there was the sound of a fist hitting a face, and finally, silence.

"I _knew_ I shouldn't have left him alone!" Big D shouted, pounding the desk. "Come on! Help me open this cabinet!"

Big D took the crowbar, and he and Natasha both pried open the cabinet door. Inside was a box of tracking bugs.

"I saw checked the box right after you left," Natasha said. "Not vun bug is missink."

"Looks can be decieving, Ms. Glamorski," Big D said, picking up the box. "Besides, we both heard the cabinet door open."

Natasha was about to disagree with the chief, when Big D opened the box. There was one bug missing.

"Smart boy," Big D said, smiling. "Fluid took one of these so we could track him down. I just need to set the correct coordinates from these bug he took into my communicator."

"But how do ve know vhich vun boychick took?" Natasha asked.

"Process of elimination, of course, my dear Ms. Glamorski. These tracking bugs are numbered. All we have to do is put them in numerical order, and the one that's missing is the one Fluid took with him."

"I must say, you are wery clever, Babushkins."

Big D said nothing, and began arranging the tracking bugs. They had the same serial number on them, but they all ended in a different number, from 1 through 5, so he had to put them in numerical order. In doing so, he found the one numbered 3 was missing. That must have been the one Fluey took with him, and he entered the data into his wrist communicator.

"This should tell us where Fluid is in a moment or so," he said. "According to this, his location coordinates are marked as five-twenty."

"Take map, Babushkins," Natasha said. "Ve vill find five-tventy this vay."

Big D took the map and began to try to locate the coordinates. The map was deviced into five colors: blue, red, yellow, purple, and green. According to the key, the blue section was five. The squares were marked B19, B20, B21, and so on.

"Ah ha, this is it!" Big D shouted, circling the building marked B20. "Time to move out."

Natasha nodded, and she and Big D left the building.

"Why are you even helping me?" he asked. "I thought you were on _their_ side."

"I vas. But . . . . . vell . . . . . I never vanted to be on their side. I only played along vith them and their plan. I'm helpink you because I like you. Though I think it may be more than just like. I think I am fallink for you, Babushkins."

Big D stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing _that_! He whirled around, and stared at the pretty Russian. Natasha sighed, and wrapped her arms around Big D's neck.

"I have alvays been attracted to older men," she said. "I love everythink about you, Babushkins. Ever since I met you in person, I thought about nothink but you. I feel terrible for druggink you, I really do. And I feel equally terrible in the inwolvement of your grandson. If I had it to do over, I vouldn't do it."

"Ms. Glamorski," Big D said. "Please try to control yourself."

"But I can't! I not only just like you, Babushkins! I love you!"

Natasha then suddenly grabbed Big D and gave him a huge, passionate kiss right on the lips. Big D pulled away, and took a couple of steps back, eyeing Natasha suspiciously. He wasn't sure if this was some sort of trick. Natasha then wrapped her arms around Big D, and pressed against his chest.

"I love you, Babushkins," she said. "Just take the chance to get to know the real me. Please, I vill tell you everythink I know about Russian Underground. You vill love me, too. I know you vould. And I know your grandchildren von't like it at first, but they vill get used to it. Vhen this is all over, say you vill be mine forever."

"Ms. Glamorski," Big D said, trying to remain calm. "I'm . . . . . I'm afraid it just isn't possible. A relationship between us could never work out. I'm twice your age, for heaven's sake!"

"But does it matter in true love, my dahlink Babushkins? Don't you find me attractive? I know you do. I can tell. I can alvays tell."

"Yes . . . . I admit, you _are_ quite attractive . . . . . but I just don't return the feelings you have for me."

"You could learn. Just give it a chance. Vhen this is all over . . . . ."

"When this is all over, Ms. Glamorski, I have plans _never_ to look back on this horrible experience again. I am going to take my grandson, and return home, and forget about this city, the sphere, the Russian Underground, and anyone involved with this city. And that includes you."

Big D started walking away, not even looking back. Natasha watched him go. Then, she buried her face in her hands and began sobbing. Big D heard her, and he felt a little guilty being so blunt, but all he wanted to do now was find Fluey, and get him home.


	11. Face Off

Once he was sure he left Natasha behind, Big D rushed to the spot on the map. He found only a few houses around. As he was looking, he heard something from one of the windows.

"At least some good comes from the constant silence of this infernal city," he said. "The smallest sounds stand out."

Big D pulled out his gun, and reloaded it, hoping he wouldn't have to use it. He paused for a moment beside a pair of open doors and took a deep breath. He was nervous about this confrontation, but he was ready, willing, and able to risk it all for his grandson. After a few moments of mentally preparing himself, Big D raced into the room. He found Tracker standing in one corner, and Narnia in the other. Fluey was in the middle of the room, tied unceremoniously to a chair, and gagged. He was in a semi-conscious state, and had a large bruise on his left cheek. Tracker was holding a gun, and Narnia had her knife held up, too.

"What's going on here?!" Big D shouted, looking at both Tracker and Narnia.

"She'll say anything to save her skin," Tracker said, grinning. "I pretended I was helping her when we tied up your grandson. That way, I could keep an eye on her. Of course, while we were working, she confessed to what she had done, even laughing about how easily she did it. I was about to take her out when you showed up. Now help out your mate and do the right thing."

_Wait_, Big D thought to himself. _I never told him about Fluid. How did he know that he's my grandson?_

Big D then turned to Narnia. She was practically glaring daggers at him.

"You really are a fool," she said. "What makes you think _I'm_ the culprit? Maybe I hit you in the head harder than I thought. Aim that gun where it belongs. That 'friend' of yours is the real culprit!"

Big D looked glanced from Narnia to Tracker, wondering who in the world was telling the truth. Finally, Big D fired the gun at Tracker, and he collapsed to the ground. Big D was about to do the same to Narnia, but she had already fled. Big D tossed the gun aside, and removed Fluey's gag.

"Are you all right?" he asked, untying his grandson. The minute he was able to, Fluey jumped up, and threw his arms around his grandfather's chest, leaning his head against Big D's shoulder.

"I thought I wasn't ever going to see you again!" he shouted. "They were gonna kill me, I just know they were!"

"It's all right," Big D said, stroking Fluey's hair gently, and holding him close. "It's all right now. Everything's going to be fine. You're safe now."

"I was so scared . . . . . I don't think I'd ever been _this_ scared before . . . . . not even when the Shadow . . . . ."

"I know. I know. Believe it or not, Fluid, I was pretty scared myself. I don't think I had ever been this scared in my life."

Fluey suddenly looked up, but not at the chief. He was looking over his shoulder, and a look of terror came over him.

"What's the matter, Fluid?" Big D asked, growing concerned.

"Behind you!" Fluey suddenly screamed. Big D whirled around as fast as he could and saw Narnia standing behind him, holding her knife up, ready to stab Big D in the back with it. He dove to the floor, taking Fluey down with him, just as Narnia lunged. Her knife hit the wall and got stuck in it.

"Why you . . . . you . . . . you old geezer!" she yelled.

"Just as I thought," Big D said, glaring at the young woman. "A coward. Only cowards stab an unsuspecting person in the back!"

"I don't care!" Narnia shouted, managing to wrench her knife out of the wall.

"Madam, there is no need to get hostile," Big D said. "What exactly is the matter with you? What is it you want?"

"Revenge!"

Narnia lunged again, and this time, Big D grabbed her by the wrists, and tried to wrestle the knife out of her hands. Fluey just stood there, mouth gaping open.

"Take cover, Fluid!" Big D shouted. "Hide!"

Fluey just stood there. He was too stunned to even move. Narnia finally pushed Big D off, and started approaching Fluey, knife in hand. Fluey began backing up, until he hit the wall, trapped.

"This will all be over with quickly," Narnia said, coming toward him. "And it will be painless. You won't feel a thing."

A gunshot suddenly rang out, and the knife flew from Narnia's hand, and hit the floor. She was about to retrieve it, when she saw the gun aimed right at her face.

"Touch one single, solitary hair on that boy, and you're dead," Big D growled. "Stand up, madam, if you please."

Nervously, Narnia stood up straight. Big D didn't take the gun off her for a minute.

"I assume this is all about that blasted sphere," he said. "I will give you that darn thing if you keep your hands and that knife off my grandson."

"I don't _want_ your stupid sphere!" Narnia shouted. "This goes _beyond_ the sphere, stupid! You took something from me, something that I can never get back! You and that outback rat friend of yours! And I want you to pay the price!"

"For heavens sake, _what_ are you _talk_ing about?!"

"You had my husband _killed_! You _killed_ him in cold blood when he decided to take it to the authorities!"

"Husband?!"

"Yes. Vladimir was my husband!"

"Holy Mesopotamia!"

"I can't believe you just said that, chief," Fluey said, giving Big D a surprised look.

"And you hired that kangaroo rat to kill him when he went to the authorities!" Narnia continued.

"But I _am_ the authority Vladimir went to," Big D said.

"Liar!" Narnia screamed. "Why else would you be sneaking around here with that sphere? I know you're part of the Russian Underground, working for that Dimetri creep! And I'm putting a stop to your murderous ways!"

"Big D? Part of the Russian Underground?" Fluey asked. Then he began laughing hysterically. "Oh brother, that's the craziest thing I ever heard! Lady, have you got your wires crossed! Big D's the chief of the Secret Security Headquarters! We're a government agency that fights crime!"

"That's correct," Big D said. He took his wallet out of his pocket, took out his SSHQ ID badge, and handed it to Narnia so she could inspect it. "Vladimir came to the Secret Security Headquarters with that sphere."

"How do I know this is on the level?" Narnia asked.

"I still have the sphere. Don't you think I would have given it to him by now if I worked for him?"

Narnia nodded, and then handed Big D back his ID badge.

"I guess this is legit," she said. "Very well, then. I'll trust you."

"Now then, now that we have that settled, tell me just what in heaven's name is going on with this sphere."

Narnia took a deep breath, and sat down. Big D and Fluey did the same.

"I work for a group of freedom fighters," Narnia said, pulling out a card, and handing it to Big D.

"AVA," he read. "American Victory Alliance. I've heard of this organization."

"Vladimir and I had met before either of us joined our organizations," Narnia continued. "I tried to convince him to join AVA, but he was more interested in RU. So he flew down to Moscow, which was his native city, and joined RU. Dimetri told him to come to this city and steal the sphere. And, as you already found out, the sphere can see into the future, and Dimetri wants it so he can take over the world. When Vladimir found this out, he quickly switched sides, but I didn't realize this until one of AVA's agents came to tell me that Vlad had been gunned down in cold blood. I came here looking for revenge against the RU, when I saw you wandering around the city. I followed you, because you had the sphere. I lost track of you after awhile, and then I saw that kangaroo rat, and he went to this old house. I followed, because AVA had been after him for quite some time. He's a hired assassin. When the kid came upstairs, the kangaroo rat grabbed him."

"Yeah, and his grip was like a vice!" Fluey shouted, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. There was a bruise on his arm where Tracker had grabbed him.

"What happened then?" Big D asked.

"Well, she ran in," Fluey said. "Just as what's-his-face wrenched off my communicator and smashed it. So then those two got into a fight. I didn't know they were armed until that gun went off and hit the wall. Since I didn't have my transformer, there was no way I wanted to hang around! So I saw the cabinet and tried to hide in it. I found the tracking bugs almost immediately, so I grabbed one, just in case."

"Smart move," Big D said.

"Well, just in case turned out to be a reality," Fluey continued. "What's-his-face slammed the cabinet door shut, nearly taking my fingers off in the process. I just started screaming my head off, hoping you were in earshot chief. Then, this Narnia chick, or whatever her name is, snuck up behind me and gagged me. Then, the guy hit me and knocked me out. I came to only a few seconds before you showed up, chief."

"But just how did Tracker know you are my grandson?" Big D asked.

"I told him, of course," a Russian voice said. Big D, Narnia, and Fluey looked toward the doorway, and saw none other than Dimetri of the Russian Underground coming toward them.

"It's him!" Fluey shouted, nervously clinging to the chief. Big D wrapped his arms around Fluey's shoulders, and pulled him close, protectively.

"So, Mr. Dimetri, we finally meet in person," Big D said.

"Da, ve do," Dimetri said. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dawson, truly it is."

"The feeling is _not_ mutual," Big D said. "So you're the mastermind behind all this, eh?"

"That's right. I hired our friend Tracker to find you, and kill you."

"What for?"

"To get you out of the vay, of course. I hired Tracker to kill you and get my sphere. Natasha vas supposed to do the job, but she vent and betrayed me. Just like Vladimir betrayed me. Then Vladimir's little wifey showed up before Tracker could even find you. He didn't know her little secret. Vhen he called in and told me there vas another voman vanderink around, I had Tracker track down the boy and kidnap him."

"He told me the boy was a junior agent of the Russian Underground," Narnia said.

"I see," Big D replied.

"And now that you all know my plot," Dimetri went on, "I vill have to destroy all of you. Nothink is goink to stand in my vay from rulink the vorld!"

"Nothing except _us_, buster!" Fluey shouted. "Hiyah!"

Fluey gave Dimetri a karate chop to the neck, and kicked him where he knew it would hurt the most. Dimetri groaned, but recovered quickly, and lunged at Fluey. Big D jumped to his feet, and punched Dimetri right in the stomach. Dimetri growled, and gave Big D an uppercut to the jaw. Narnia grabbed her knife, and charged as the two men were brawling. Dimetri grabbed her wrist, and flung the young woman directly into the wall. Narnia banged her head against it, and was out like a light. Then he turned his attention back to Big D, and gave him a left cross to the face, causing the chief to fall to the floor, dazed.

"Hey, that's a low blow!" Fluey shouted.

Dimetri didn't answer. He just walked over to the teenager, pulled out his gun, and whacked Fluey upside the head with it as hard as he could, knocking him out cold. Dimetri laughed, and took aim, right at Fluey's chest, making sure he was aiming right where the teenager's heart was. But just as he was about to pull the trigger, he was suddenly tackled to the floor, and the gun went flying.

"Don't even think about it, you Russian rat!" Big D yelled.

"Yankee pig!" Dimetri shouted. He reached up, and grabbed the chief by the collar. The two of them wrestled on the floor for awhile, throwing punches left and right, trying to get the upper hand. Fluey and Narnia were in no position to help.

Finally, Dimetri managed to pull something out of his coat. It was a small spray bottle. He popped the lid off, and sprayed something into Big D's eyes. Big D howled in pain, and took a few steps back.

"Pepper spray vorks not just for vomen," Dimetri laughed, pulling a set of brass knuckles out of his coat. He put them on, and punched Big D in the stomach as hard as he could, and then in the face. Big D fell to the ground, having the wind knocked out of him. He couldn't get up. Dimetri then retrieved his gun, and walked up to Big D.

"Do svidaniya, comrade!" he shouted with an evil laugh.

Suddenly, a gunshot was heard, and Dimetri fell to the ground. Big D just stared, not sure what to think. He looked up, and saw none other than Natasha Glamorski standing in the doorway, holding a smoking pistol in her hand.

"Miss me, Babushkins?" she asked.

"I hope you're not going to turn that on _me_, or my grandson," Big D said, standing up.

"No," Natasha said, putting the gun down on a nearby table. "I could never do that to you. Or my sister-in-law."

"Your _what_?!" Big D shouted.

"Sister-in-law," Narnia said, standing up. She had come to when Natasha shot Dimetri.

"So, is he . . . . . you know . . . . ." she said.

"One second," Big D said. He kneeled next to Dimetri, and looked. He didn't even need to check for a pulse.

"No possibility whatsoever," he said, standing up.

"Serves him right, if you ask me," Natasha said.

"Now what's all this sister-in-law business?" Big D asked.

"Vladimir vas my brother," Natasha said. "I am also member of AVA. Dimetri didn't know that. After they murdered Vladimir, I vent undercover. After they kidnapped your grandson the first time, they sent me to get you, since you vere takink too long to give them sphere."

Before Big D could respond, he heard a pathetic sounding moan coming from elsewhere in the room. At first, the trio thought it was Dimetri, but then Big D realized it was Fluey. He ran to his grandson, and carefully pulled him into an upright position.

"Fluid, are you all right?" he asked.

"My head . . . ." Fluey said, groggily. "Oh boy . . . . is my head _ever_ killing me!"

"I'll bet," Big D said, taking a look at the lump on the side of Fluey's head.

"As much as we'd like to stay, we're leaving," Narnia said. "With the head of the Russian Underground gone, his minions won't know what to do with themselves."

"And what about the sphere?" Big D asked.

"It's all in your hands now, fella," Narnia said. "Do with it what you will."

"Just don't look into it again, Babushkins," Natasha said. "I beg you. Don't look at it again. Destroy that awful thing if you have to."

"Come on, Natasha, let's blow this popsicle stand," Narnia said.

"Wait, wait!" Fluey shouted. "You can't leave us holding the bag like this!"

"Sorry, kid," Narnia said. "My job here is done. As far as I'm concerned, you've got the sphere, you do whatever you want with it."

And with that, the two women left. Big D sighed, and took the sphere out of his shoulder bag.

"So . . . ." Fluey said. "What're you gonna do with that thing, Big D?"

"I'm going to find out what secrets this sphere holds," Big D said. "Once and for all!"


	12. No Turning Back

Big D put the sphere back into his bag, and pulled out the bottle of medicine he had found in his cell after he woke up from drinking the drugged coffee. He took two tablets out, and handed them to Fluey.

"Take these," he said. "They'll help your headache."

Fluey took the pills and swallowed them. Big D was right. His headache was gone in a matter of seconds. Big D then looked around the room, looking for something of use when he found both a computer on the table, and a safe in the other corner. Naturally it was locked.

"Why am I not surprised?" Big D groaned, and then turned to Fluey. "Tell me, has Agent Multi taught you and Agent Coil anything about picking locks?"

"Only not to do it when your older sister is home," Fluey said. "Multi said Windy caught him once and blackened _both_ his eyes at the same time."

"Oh well. Guess I'll have to do it myself then. Actually, I think I'm getting the hang of it."

Fluey gave the chief a weird look, and just watched as Big D got to work picking the lock on the safe in the room. He managed to get it unlocked in a matter of seconds.

"That's pretty good, chief," Fluey said. "Let's see you do that with a bobby pin."

"Don't push it, young man," Big D said, taking a CD from the safe. He loaded it into the computer, and waited for it to load. A three dimensional image of the cube and the sphere appeared. Big D read the notes on them.

_The cube is an ancient artifact. It is an unknown object containing information of incalculable knowledge. We believe it primarily contains information regarding future events. The sphere is an ancient device which provides access to the information recorded in the cube. Only one copy has been found. Attempts at reproducing the artifacts have been met with failure. Attention: very dangerous. Long term exposure produces a lethal outcome. Mission: retrieve it, and bring it to headquarters._

"What do you think this means, boss?" Fluey asked.

"My guess this was written by the Russian Underground," Big D said.

"Probably," Fluey said, shrugging. "By the way, what did they mean when they told you not to look into the sphere?"

"Never mind," Big D said. "Come on. I think it's time you and I discover the secret of station eleven. We've come this far already, we might as well go all the way. It might be the only way we can get out of here."

Fluey nodded, and he and Big D were off. It was a long walk, but the path they were on led the duo to a blocked off portion of what appeared to be an evacuation zone.

"Stay here," Big D said. "I'm going to see if I can find something to unblock the door."

Fluey nodded, and Big D started looking around. He turned on the lights, and found several scientific equipment there. But the keyboard was missing from the computer. Sparks were flying from the chord where it should have been.

"Fluid, come here!" he shouted. "I need you!"

"What's up?" Fluey asked.

"You know more about this kind of technology than I do. Help me get this computer up and running."

"Piece of cake. Got any electrical tape on ya?"

Big D pulled out the roll of tape and handed it to Fluey. The teenager then grabbed the keyboard, and used the electrical tape to reconnect the wires. Then he booted it up, and began typing.

"Okay," he said. "It says here the entrance is blocked by a security system. We'll have to find the password to get into it."

"And just where do we find a password?" Big D asked.

"Hang on a sec," Fluey said, grabbing a piece of paper from the wall. "These instructions say the password to the terminal can be found on a set of cartridges. Stand by, Big D. I'll find them!"

Fluey then began searching the room, and managed to dig up five cartridges. He loaded them into the computer one by one in order to find the correct password. It looked like it was in sound wave form.

"How do we figure _this_ one out?" Big D asked.

Fluey stared intently at the screen, and then snapped his fingers.

"Got it!" he shouted, and he typed in a word. "See these boxes next to the sound wave? They've got letters next to the sound files, and these letters match the sound wave password perfectly."

"Good work, Agent Fluid," Big D said.

Fluey pushed the enter key on the keyboard, and the two of them heard machines grinding. They figured the gates were now opened.

"Yeah, man!" Fluey shouted. "Come on, chief!"

"Not quite yet," Big D said, looking at a glowing purple cube in the room. Then he pulled out the sphere.

"What are you doing?" Fluey asked.

"I need to focus on the sphere. It may help us."

"But, chief . . . . ."

"Just trust me."

Big D directed the sphere at the cube, and didn't see the future this time. He saw the past. He saw how the sphere arrived at the city. It was dug up by a team of scientists. But before Big D could see anything else, he was overcome by a burning pain in his body. He honestly felt like he was having an out of body experience.

"Chief!" Fluey shouted, sounding panicked. "Chief, are you all right?! What's happening?! What's the matter?!"

"Fluid . . . . ." he said, struggling. "The pills! I need . . . . . the pills! Not the ones I gave you! The other ones . . . . . hurry!"

"Other pills?" Fluey asked. "What other pills?"

"Hurry, Fluid, hurry!" Big D yelled.

Fluey looked around the room, and finally found the pills the chief was talking about. He grabbed them, and gave them to Big D, who immediately swallowed them.

"Thank you, Fluid," Big D said, standing up. Then he looked over at the cube. It was black, and completely useless. "I guess these things can only be used once."

Big D looked around the room a little more, and found a pill box.

"Empty," he said, looking at the label. "I'm not sure what the ingredients are, but my best bet not all of it is meant for human consumption. Hold onto this, Fluid, and give it to Dr. Johnson when we get back to HQ."

"Right, chief," Fluey said, taking the pill box. Then, they returned to the gates, just as they finished opening. They stood there and stared at it.

"Do we have to do this, Big D?" Fluey asked. "This place is making me nervous!"

"It's too late to turn back now," Big D said, firmly. "I want to know what's going on here."

Fluey took a deep breath, and nodded. Then, he and Big D walked through the gates. They entered a dark room, and Big D turned on the flashlight.

"That just figures," he said.

"Looks like the lamps are unplugged," Fluey said. "Give me a second."

Fluey connected a couple of wires to a power source, and then turned on the lights. They found some sort of laser fence in front of them, blocking the way.

"That thing could fry us in two seconds flat," Fluey said. "Man, I wish I had my transformer. Then I might be able to get through this."

"Leave them to me," Big D said, taking out the gun. "And stand back."

Fluey took a couple of steps back, while Big D fired the gun at the lasers on the wall. Once they were destroyed, he began picking up pieces of paper and some weird metal objects scattered around the floor. He and Fluey put the pieces of paper together. On the paper was a drawing of what appeared to be some sort of star. And the points of the star matched the shape of the metal objects.

"Ahh, _that's _what those metal objects are," Big D said. "A key of sorts. They must open this door."

"This is all _really_ confusing, chief," Fluey said.

"I'm afraid I can't explain it myself," Big D said. "Come on. We have to keep moving."

Big D pulled the odd metal keys out of his bag and walked over to the gate. Fluey followed him.

"Help me piece these together," Big D said, handing Fluey the paper pieces he had found. "They're supposed to look like this."

Fluey nodded, and he and Big D immediately got to work. Once they finished, Big D inserted the "key" into the wall, and the gates started opening, but they were jammed.

"Maybe you ought to use the crowbar, and I'll push on it," Fluey said.

"Good thinking," Big D replied, pulling out the crowbar. The two of them got to work pushing on the gates as hard as they could, trying to unstick them. After a few tries, they managed to open it.

"Whew!" Fluey shouted. "That was hard work."

"Yes," Big D said. "Come on. We've got to finish this."

Big D and Fluey then entered the excavation zone, awed by the ancient architecture surrounding them. Fluey suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What's the matter?" Big D asked.

"I keep hearing whispering," Fluey said, nervously. "Am I losing it?"

"No, no, I hear them, too," Big D said. "I can't explain what it is. Come on. We must keep going."

The duo continued moving along, climbing up an endless staircase until they reached an ancient temple, which looked like an anthill to Fluey. They entered, but stopped after a few moments or so. They were beginning to feel tired and disoriented.

"Chief, once we find out what we want to find out," Fluey said, "how do we get home?"

"I'm . . . . . not sure," Big D said. He and Fluey began to look around. Fluey found a couple of belts and picked them up.

"What do you think these are, chief?" he asked.

"Whoever lived here probably used these to carry around the sphere and the cubes," Big D said.

"So they were carrying around the future?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Geez . . . . . . that's kind of a creepy thought, knowing everything about your future . . . . . knowing everything before it happens, like your future family, your future job, the exact date of your death . . . . ."

"Fluid, please. I do not wish to hear any more."

Fluey nodding, and he and Big D continued looking around the temple, taking a look at various artifacts. Cubes were scattered all over the place. Fluey sat down after about an hour of searching.

"What's the matter?" Big D asked.

"I'm tired and starving," Fluey said. "You have anything left in that bag of yours?"

"Unfortunately, no," Big D said. "We'll be out of here soon, so just hold on. I'm going to look around at these cubes."

"You're not gonna use one, are you?" Fluey asked. "You heard what that creepy Narnia lady said!"

"I'm aware of that," Big D said. "But there doesn't seem to be a way out of here, and we could very well starve to death. I'm not about to let you suffer here."

"But . . . . but what if it doesn't show you the way out? We don't have any more of those pills left, you know! What'll happen if you look at that thing and don't take any of the pills?"

Big D sighed, and put his hand on Fluey's shoulder.

"I have to," he said. "There's no other choice."

"But chief!"

"No buts. I promised myself I would at least get you back home, and I am going to do just that."

Fluey shook his head vigorously. He couldn't let Big D do this, but it was too late. The chief aimed the sphere at the cube, and looked into it. A frightful image appeared in it. It appeared to be a mushroom cloud, and a large one at that.

"The future," he said. "This is the future if we escape and bring knowledge of the sphere's power into the world. Utter destruction. Humanity is not ready for this. Knowing the future can only bring . . . . . . global disaster."

"Chief?" Fluey asked.

The pain suddenly started. Big D tried to fight it off.

"The way out . . . . ." he said, still looking at the sphere. "Show me . . . . the way out!"

"Chief!" Fluey yelled. Big D groaned. The pain he was feeling was excruciating. He looked over at his grandson and gripped his hand tightly.

"I'm sorry . . . ." he said. "I've . . . . . failed you . . . ."

"Big D, please, _please_ hold on!" Fluey begged. "You've got to hold out! You've just _got_ to!"

"I can't . . . . . it's too much . . . ."

"Chief, come on, you've gotta . . . . please, just . . . . ."

"No . . . . too . . . . . late for me . . . . . you must . . . . . try to find . . . . . the way out . . . . . by yourself . . . . . get back . . . . . home . . . . ."

"Chief!"

"You . . . . . must . . . . . escape . . . . . one . . . . . more . . . . thing . . . . . . take care . . . . . of your . . . . . sister . . . ."

"Chief, no!"

Fluey's begging and pleading was not going to do any good. Big D lay down on the ground then, and closed his eyes. The last thing he heard was Fluey letting out a petrified shriek, and darkness over came him.

Big D could feel his soul separating from his body as the pain began to lift. He was able to see himself laying on the floor of the temple, and Fluey kneeling next to his lifeless body, looking stunned, hurt, and angry all at once.

"I'm sorry, Fluid," Big D said, even though he knew Fluey couldn't hear him. "But it was the only way."

Big D suddenly felt himself being pulled through the walls of the city, right into the heart of it. He traveled through the ground into the temples and tunnels, until he was surrounded by a light. When it subsided, he found himself in a strange room.

"Where am I?" he asked, looking around. He saw a sphere lying on the floor, and he picked it up. He looked into it, but didn't feel any pain this time around. Something began forming in the sphere as well. It was Fluey, leaning over Big D's body, and just screaming incoherently in despair, tears cascading down his face. Big D couldn't stand to look at that, and he dropped the sphere. Suddenly, a ghost like apparition appeared before the chief.

"The sphere," it said. "Outsiders stole the sphere. It must remain here. The sphere must never be removed from this place again."

"I see. Well, we've brought it back, so . . . . ."

"No one should know more about their future than they have to. By looking into the sphere, you have seen the future. You must pay."

"Pay? How? What do you mean? You wouldn't destroy the world just because . . . . ."

"No. The world would be destroyed if the sphere ever got into the hands of evil. The sphere must be kept here. And it must be guarded. You will remain here and guard the sphere and it's secrets for eternity."

"But . . . . . but my grandson . . . . ."

"We will return you to life. Your grandson will be returned to the outside of the city. Your friend, Ms. Glamorski, is on her way down now. We will show you the way out, and then, you will show her. And she will take your grandson back to where he belongs. But you must stay and protect the sphere, else there be more victims . . . . . those killed by the sphere . . . . mankind is not ready for these secrets."

Big D took a deep breath. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't have a choice in the matter. A light surrounded Big D and his soul was returned to his body. He sat up, only to find Fluey laying over him, unconscious. It appeared that he had cried himself to sleep. Big D wiped the tear tracks away, and stroked his hair.

"Mr. Dawson?" a familiar voice asked. Big D looked up, and saw Natasha Glamorski enter the temple.

"Ms. Glamorski," he said. "Right on time."

"Vhat do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. I'm afraid I can't explain anything. Except you must take my grandson, and leave this place. I'm afraid I have to stay here. I can't tell you why. And I most certainly don't wish to tell my grandson why. In a way, I'm glad he's unconscious right now."

Big D then lifted Fluey into his arms, and held him close. This was the last time he'd be seeing his grandson.

"Follow me," he said to Natasha.

Natasha followed Big D down a path. At the end of it was a tunnel, leading to the city, as well as an escape route. Big D heaved a sigh, and handed Fluey to Natasha.

"Please take him back to Megatropolis," he said. "And do not tell him anything about this last meeting of ours. When he wakes up, tell him you followed us, and found us. Tell him there was nothing you could do for me, and you managed to find a way out."

"But vhy are you not comink vith us?" Natasha asked. "I do not understand."

"I'm afraid I can't explain it. It's far too long and far too complicated. Please promise me . . . . . he must not know I'm alive. And tell my granddaughter and the others the same thing as well. No one must know."

"How come?"

"If my grandson discovers I'm alive, he'll only try to come back here, and he may try to use the sphere himself. I want him as far away from this place as possible. I need you to do a couple of things for me before you head back to Megatropolis. In one of the buildings in the city is a video tape. I want you to find it and give it to my granddaughter. Tell her to watch it, and tell her she's now officially the one in charge of the organization."

"I promise, Babushkins. But vhat vill you be doink here?"

"I can't tell you. But you must know this. I will be here for all time. Now please . . . . . go. Leave the city and never look back."

Natasha merely nodded, and walked away, carrying a still sleeping Fluey with her. She left the city, found her car, and drove off in it, with Fluey sprawled out in the backseat, just sleeping it off.

"I am sorry your ordeal has not ended happily, dahlink," Natasha said. "But, I vill get you on the next plane to America and Megatropolis, and then you vill vonce again be back vhere you belong."

Fluey woke up some time later, feeling groggy and disoriented. His eyes felt puffy, and his head was throbbing. He didn't even know where he was. His vision was a bit fuzzy. When it cleared, he found himself alone in what looked like the SSHQ infirmary.

"This is really weird," he said. "How'd I get back here? What happened? Could that whole thing been just a really intense nightmare? No . . . . no, it couldn't have been just a nightmare . . . . if it was, I'd be at home . . . . . wouldn't I?"

Fluey started feeling dizzy, and he started to lie back down. His head was killing him. As he thought it over a little, the door opened, and in walked Dr. Phelps. Phyllis was right behind him.

"Thank goodness you're all right!" she shouted, running to Fluey, and hugging him tightly. "We've been so worried about you!"

"How'd I get here?" Fluey asked, feeling completely confused. "One minute, I'm in this weird temple and the next . . . . . . holy Mesopotamia! Big D! I almost forgot about . . . . . oh man, he's not really . . . . . I mean, is he . . . . . I mean . . . . ."

"Okay, okay, take it easy," Dr. Phelps said. "Take a deep breath and calm down a little."

"Calm down?!" Fluey shouted. "How can you expect me to calm down?! What happened? Where's the chief, anyway? Please, please tell me all that was just some crazy nightmare!"

Phyllis and Dr. Phelps looked at each other. Phyllis then bit her lower lip, and turned away. Fluey noticed her reaction, and grew pale.

"You . . . . . you mean it _wasn't_ a nightmare?" he asked. "All of that really _did_ happen?! Big D . . . . . . he's . . . . . he's . . . . ."

Fluey couldn't bring himself to say it. Phyllis turned to Fluey then. Her eyes were watering and a few tears began to slide down her cheeks. That was all it took. Fluey shook his head in disbelief.

"No . . . . no, it can't be true," he said. "It just can't be true!"

Phyllis embraced her brother, and held him close, trying to comfort him, but it wasn't easy. Dr. Phelps stood back, and waited until Fluey calmed down a little.

"Let me explain what happened, Fluey," Dr. Phelps said.

"O-okay . . . . . ." Fluey said, shakily. Phyllis gently pushed him back into the bed, and pressed a cold washcloth to the teenager's forehead, to sooth his headache, which had only gotten worse in those few minutes.

"Now, we don't know a lot of what happened," Dr. Phelps went on. "You and Big D had been gone for several weeks, and we hadn't heard anything. It was about one in the morning when this Russian woman, Natasha Glamorski, came into HQ with you, and you were fast asleep. She had come to the office a week after those other Russians had come into the building and opened fire."

"Yeah . . . ." Fluey said, realizing something else. "Coiley, and Multi, and Skittles, are they . . . . ."

"They're fine," Dr. Phelps assured Fluey. "They're just fine. Coiley and Multi are recuperating at their own homes, and Skittles is down in the K-nine unit for right now. But she'll be back to herself in no time."

"Well . . . . . I guess that's good . . . . ." Fluey said.

"In any case, security called Dr. West down," Dr. Phelps continued. Dr. West was the head doctor on the SSHQ night shift. "He immediately sent you in here, and called me. Ms. Glamorski explained what she could, and said that, unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to save Big D."

"So . . . . . he's really gone?" Fluey asked.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Phelps said. "I'm sorry."

Fluey didn't respond. He just turned away from both Phyllis and Dr. Phelps.

"We'll get through this," Phyllis said. "You and I are going to have to stick together on this one."

"I kinda just want to be alone," Fluey said, not even looking at his sister.

"All right," Phyllis said. "Let me know when you're ready to go home, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Fluey said. He noticed his voice caught in his throat, and he hoped Phyllis and Dr. Phelps didn't notice. He heard the door close, and took a deep breath.

"It _had_ to have been a dream," he said. "I . . . . I'm still dreaming, I just know it. Big D _can't_ be dead! He just _can't_ be!"


	13. Changes

After leaving the infirmary, Phyllis went down to Mike's garage with the video tape Natasha had given her. She went to the garage because she knew Mike had a TV and VCR hooked up down there.

"Hi, Mike," she said. "I need to borrow your VCR."

"Sure," Mike said, slamming the hood on an experimental vehicle he was working on. "What for?"

"The Russian lady who brought Fluey in earlier gave it to me. She said the chief wanted me to see it. She also said Big D said I was now in charge."

"Gotcha. Well, as they say in sports, let's go to the video tape."

Mike took the tape from Phyllis, popped it into his VCR, grabbed the remote control, and pushed the play button. It was the same video Big D had found in the freezer of that building in the abandoned city. Mike and Phyllis watched as they saw Big D in his office with the sphere.

"Who took this footage?" Mike asked. "How'd they get into Big D's office, anyway?"

"I don't know," Phyllis said. The scene suddenly shifted to Agent Benedict talking to Dimetri. Mike and Phyllis heard every word of the conversation, and immediately stopped the tape.

"So _that's_ how they got in," Phyllis said, practically growling. "Oooohhh, that traitor!"

"I can't believe Big D put him in charge when he left!" Mike shouted. "What was he thinkin'?!"

"Maybe he didn't realize what Benedict had done when he left."

"Yeah. But I'm sure Big D will take care of him once he gets back. When _is_ the chief comin' back, anyway?"

Phyllis was quiet for a moment or so. She bit her lower lip, and turned away for a moment.

"Umm . . . ." she said, and then she started twirling her hair around her index finger. "He's not."

"Eh?" Mike asked, giving Phyllis a weird look.

"Natasha, the woman who brought Fluey in . . . . . . she said there wasn't anything she could do for Big D."

"Oh . . . . . ahhhh . . . . . geez, Phyllis . . . . . I'm sorry, I mean . . . . . ."

Mike rubbed the back of his head with his hand, not sure what to say. Phyllis knew what he meant, though. She just nodded.

"What are we gonna do about Benedict?" Mike asked.

"I don't know yet," Phyllis said. "Firing him is too good for that . . . . that scum bucket!"

"Not unless it's with a firin' squad."

"Oh, Mike! That's a terrible idea! Besides. We don't have one."

"Just a thought."

Mike turned off the tape, and followed Phyllis to the elevator. The two of them went directly to Big D's office, and stormed into the building. Phyllis grabbed Benedict by the back of his shirt collar, and flung him out of Big D's chair. He hit the floor with a loud THUD!

"Hey!" he shouted. "What the heck was _that_ for?!"

"You get your lousy, dirty, no good, traitorous carcass out of that chair!" Phyllis yelled. Then she pushed a button on the chief's desk.

"Send Agent Haynes up here," she said. "Stat!"

Benedict just stared at Phyllis oddly. Agent Haynes was head of security. Then he realized Phyllis had used the word "traitorous." Somehow or another, she found out Benedict was the one who informed the Russian Underground about Big D. Benedict tried to sneak away, but Mike grabbed him by the collar before he could get far.

"You ain't goin' nowhere but the hoosegow, buster," he said.

"Get your hands off me, you . . . . ." Benedict started, trying to think of a good insult. "You . . . . you Texas transplant, you!"

"You call _that_ an insult?!" Mike shouted.

A moment later, Agent Haynes entered the room, and Mike practically threw Benedict at his feet.

"Take him to the holding cells," Phyllis said. "Lock him up and throw away the key until we can think of an appropriate way to deal with him!"

"You heard what the chief said!" Benedict shouted. "_I'm_ in charge until further notice!"

"Right," Phyllis said. "And Big D's given me said further notice. I'm in charge now and we know you're the one who alerted the Russian Underground! We have the video tape to prove it!"

"Uh oh," Benedict said.

"Uh oh is right," Agent Haynes said, slapping the cuffs on Benedict. "Let's go, you traitor!"

"Hey, Haynes, what're the chances of gettin' a firin' squad in here?" Mike asked.

Agent Haynes didn't answer. Phyllis sat down at Big D's desk and groaned.

"Ooooh, would I ever _love_ to kill that dolt with my bare hands!" she shouted, pounding her fists on the desk. "You want to play chief for a few hours, Mike?"

"Why?" Mike asked.

"I'm going down to the infirmary, and I'm taking Fluey home. And I plan on staying home until tomorrow. I need a few minutes to let this all sink in before I lose it completely."

Mike nodded. He really couldn't blame Phyllis. After all, going from secretary to chief was a big step.

Two days later, all three Impossibles were at headquarters. Multi and Coiley were well enough to get back to semi-active duty, which meant they could hang out at headquarters and help the girls out in the mail room with the singing Impossibles' fan mail. Besides, Reggie had to re-build all three transformers from scratch, as well as Fluey's wrist communicator. Phyllis had called an agency wide meeting the day before to announce the latest changes in the whole mess. She also showed all the agents the video tape of Benedict. She was taking suggestions on how to handle his punishment. Most of what the agents came up with were either too mild (in Phyllis's opinion), or illegal.

The boys were down in the mail room with Shawn, FG, and Danalleah, going through the mail. Skittles was laying in Fluey's lap.

"I still can't believe Big D's actually gone," Fluey said, stroking Skittles gently.

"Are you okay, Fluey?" Danalleah asked. "You know we're here for you if you want to talk."

"I'm fine," Fluey said, turning away from his girlfriend.

"Are you sure?" Multi asked. "You've been through a lot these past few weeks, you know."

"I know, but you guys don't have to worry about me," Fluey said. "I'm okay."

Skittles whimpered. She knew better than that. Fluey was _not_ okay, and the others knew it, too. He just didn't feel like talking about it. Fluey then handed Skittles over to Multi, stood up, and started to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Shawn asked.

"I need to clear my head," Fluey relied. "You know."

"Yeah, okay," Multi said. Fluey left just then. Coiley checked his watch the minute he left. Exactly five minutes later, he and Multi stood up, and started to leave.

"Now what?" FG asked.

"We're gonna follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Coiley said.

"We gave him a five minute head start so he won't be _too_ suspicious," Multi said. "All we've got to do is figure out where he took that walk."

The girls also got up and followed. They had a feeling the boys might need them.

Fluey, in the meantime, went down to the holding cells where the SSHQ put captured criminals until they could be transferred to other locations. The only one in any of the cells was Benedict. He was laying on a cot, playing "Red River Valley" on a harmonica.

"I hope you're satisfied," Fluey said, glaring daggers at the traitor.

"It was fun while it lasted," Benedict said, shrugging.

"What in the world made you _think_ you could get away with something like this?"

"Well, it was worth a shot."

"I'll give you a shot all right!"

Fluey then clenched his fist, and socked Benedict in the jaw, so hard Benedict was propelled right into the wall. Then, Fluey grabbed the keys to the cell, unlocked it, and grabbed Benedict by the shirt collar. Then he threw him into the wall again. But he didn't stop there. His adrenaline was pumping. He gave Benedict a kick in the stomach, karate style, and a chop to the neck. Once Benedict was on the floor, Fluey jumped on him, and started pounding the living daylights out of the traitor. Coiley, Multi, and the girls arrived on the scene during this.

"Uh oh," Multi said. "We'd better stop him."

"I'll go get Phyllis!" Danalleah shouted, as she ran from the room. The others ran into the cell and tried to pull Fluey off Benedict.

"Hold it a minute, Fluey! Relax!" Multi shouted.

"Why?!" Fluey yelled. "Let me at him! He deserves it!"

"Yeah, we know he deserves it, Fluey," Coiley said, struggling to hold his team mate back. "He definitely deserves it, but you've got to calm down a little before you give yourself a heart attack or something!"

"I don't care!" Fluey yelled, trying to wrestle his way out of Multi and Coiley's grips. Shawn and FG had to help hold him down as well.

"Franky, chill out!" FG shouted, grabbing her cousins arm.

"No!" Fluey yelled. "I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna slaughter him! I'm gonna rip him apart!"

Fluey managed to wrench himself out of his friends' grips, and went back to attacking Benedict.

"Anybody got a tranquilizer dart?" Shawn asked, as she grabbed Fluey by the arms.

"I haven't seen him snap like this since that incident with his stepfather!" Multi shouted, wrapping his arm around Fluey's chest in order to hold him back.

Coiley and FG also grabbed onto Fluey and held him down. At that moment, Danalleah returned with Phyllis and Dr. Phelps behind her. Dr. Phelps had a syringe in his hand, and he immediately ran over to Fluey, and injected the liquid in the syringe into side of the dark-haired Impossible's neck. Whatever that stuff was took effect almost immediately. Fluey stopped flailing about, and his muscles relaxed. His eyelids were growing heavy, and he dropped off in a deep sleep. Dr. Phelps then picked up the sleeping teenager, and started carrying him out of the room.

"What was in that thing, doc?" Coiley asked.

"A sedative," Dr. Phelps replied. "It should make him sleep for a few hours."

"Thanks," Benedict said, standing up. "I knew this kid had a low boiling point, but I didn't think it was _that_ low!"

"We didn't stop him for your benefit, Benedict," Coiley said, glaring at Benedict as he slammed the cell door closed. And with that, the group left. The girls went back to the mail room while Multi and Coiley followed Phyllis and Dr. Phelps to the infirmary.

"You think he'll be okay?" Coiley asked, as Dr. Phelps put Fluey down on one of the beds in the recovery room.

"I'm sure he will be after awhile," Dr. Phelps replied. "He's just having a difficult time coping with this."

"That's for sure," Phyllis said.

A few hours later, Fluey woke up, feeling a little confused as to how he ended up in the infirmary, until he remembered what happened in the holding cells. He groaned, and went up to the main office. Phyllis was trying to get some paperwork done.

"Hey," Fluey said, coming in. "What's going on?"

"Well, I see you've finally woke up," Phyllis replied, glancing up from the paperwork for a moment.

"Yeah. So . . . . . what's gonna happen with Benedict?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Oh."

Fluey bit his lower lip and looked around the room for a minute or so."

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"What is it?" Phyllis said, not bothering to look up from her paperwork.

"Where'd they stash the stiff?"

"_What_?!"

Phyllis looked up at Fluey with a shocked look on her face. She couldn't believe what he had just said.

"Would you care to rephrase that question?" she asked, shooting her brother a Look.

"I just want to know what they did with the chief," Fluey said. "I mean, what'd they do with him? Did they leave him in that weird temple thing or not?"

"Fluey, I don't know," Phyllis said. "I didn't ask."

"Don't we have a right to know where the body is?"

"Fluey, don't tell me you think Big D's still alive."

"No . . . . . I mean . . . . . well, I don't know. I mean, yeah, I saw him . . . . well, you know . . . . . but . . . . but that doesn't mean he's actually . . . . . I mean, he just _can't_ be dead!"

"Fluey, look, I know you're having a hard time coping with this. I know you don't deal with these sort of changes well. But you have _got_ to understand that Big D is gone now, and there's nothing you can do."

"What about that Russian lady? Did she tell you what they were going to do with the body? Did she tell you _any_thing about that?"

"No. She just sat she found both you and Big D. You were both unconscious. She said you were still alive, but Big D wasn't, and there wasn't anything she could do for him."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know. Maybe she went back to Russia or something."

"I've gotta talk to her. I _know_ something's up here. Big D just _can't_ be dead, I know it! I don't care if I saw him die right before my eyes! I know he's still alive!"

"Fluey, that's just crazy. I've got a lot of work to do, so if you don't mind . . . . ."

Fluey groaned, and left the office. He spent the rest of the day trying to come up with a theory to back up his reasonings. He had to convince Phyllis Big D was still alive, but she wouldn't listen to him.

"Fluey, listen to me!" she shouted, after losing her patients completely. "Big D is gone! He is _never_ coming back, and you're just going to have to accept it!"

"But Phyllis, I know he's . . . ." Fluey started.

"He _isn't_! You're in denial, and it has _got_ to stop! I know you don't want to believe he's gone, but he is, and there's nothing that can be done about it! And if you don't pull yourself together, I'm going to have to have you sent to a mental institution for being delusional!"

Fluey backed off. He could tell Phyllis was not in a good mood here. She was stressing out over running the agency. Fluey then ran his theory by Multi and Coiley.

"Fluey . . . . ." Coiley started. "You don't _really_ think that, do you?"

"I don't know," Fluey said. "But . . . . but don't you think it _might _be possible? I'm positive he's . . . . ."

"Have you been getting enough sleep lately?" Multi asked. "We know this hasn't been easy for you, Fluey, but really, I think your imagination's working on overtime."

"Come on, fellas!" Fluey shouted. "Why won't you believe me?!"

"Because it's not possible," Multi said.

"Listen, Fluey," Coiley said. "You've had a rough couple of weeks. It's bound to take a toll on you both physically and mentally."

"But . . . . but fellas!" Fluey shouted.

"Fluey, you know if you keep this up, you'll only make yourself sick," Multi said. "I think you should to back home, and get some rest."

"Right," Coiley agreed. "The sooner you accept this, the sooner you'll feel better."

And with that, Coiley and Multi left the room. Fluey clenched his fists and grinded his teeth. This whole thing was beginning to frustrate him. He knew something was amiss here, and he had to find out what it was.

"They just don't understand!" he yelled. "Nobody understands! I've _got_ to find out the truth! I know someone's hiding it from me."

Fluey immediately got up, and went down to the SSHQ labs. He pulled out his ID badge, and swiped it into the card reader at the door. The door opened, and Fluey walked inside. Nobody was around. He went to one of the computers and began typing something on it, accessing information on tracking an agent through their communication device. Once Fluey got what he needed, he transferred the data from the computer a disk. Then he went to the SSHQ parking garage, where the Impossi-Mobile was. He transferred the data from the disk to the Impossi-Mobile's onboard computer. The TV screen in the dashboard came up, and showed what looked like a satellite radar. A small blip on the screen was blinking on and off. Fluey typed in something on the keyboard, and a computerized image of Russia appeared.

"According to this," he said. "Big D's communicator was last seen in Russia. So Russia, here I come!"

Fluey converted the car to Impossi-Jet, and took off.


	14. Track Back

Once Fluey landed the Impossi-Jet in Russia, he had a look around. Since his wrist communicator was still back in the SSHQ labs getting repaired, he had to rely on the Impossi-Jet's computer to track down Big D's communicator. He converted to Impossi-Mobile, and drove around, but he couldn't pick up anything.

"This is really weird," he said. "Big D's gotta be around here somewhere. Maybe I should try to find that weird city, first."

That seemed to sound like a good suggestion, but there was a slight hitch to it. Where _was_ that weird city? Fluey figured it was somewhere in Russia, but where, exactly?

As Fluey was driving, he noticed he was low on fuel. Luckily, there was a gas station nearby. He pulled into it, and started filling up the Impossi-Mobile's gas tank. As he finished up, he saw an attendant wiping down the windshield of somebody's car.

"Hey, buddy, I need some information," Fluey said.

"Da? Vhat is it?" the attendant asked.

"I'm trying to find this city, but I don't know where it is. All I can figure out is that it's somewhere in Russia. I was there a couple of weeks ago, and I need to get back there, but I can't figure out how."

"That doesn't narrow anythink down, you know. Besides, if you have been there before, vhy can't you find it now?"

"Because I was knocked unconscious when they brought me to the city in question. All I can gather, though, is that it was abandoned, and it was always day time, and always snowing."

The gas station attendant gave Fluey a weird look. Then he shook his head.

"I think you need to get your head examined," he said. "There's no city like that around here."

"Are you sure?"

"Da. Positive."

"Well . . . . . what do you know about the Russian Underground?"

"Don't go messink vith them."

"Too late. I've already messed with them."

The attendant said nothing, and left. It was the same wherever Fluey went after that. Nobody knew of that strange city. Fluey kept trying to explain what had happened while he was there, but nobody could give him any information. But Fluey wasn't about to give up on this. He decided to check out the local library, to see if he could get into the town's records. That city just _had_ to exist.

"Let me get this straight," the librarian said, when Fluey asked her about the information he was looking for. "You say you vere in an abandoned city where it vas alvays daytime, and it vas snowink . . . . in July yet."

"That's right," Fluey said.

"And you are tryink to find this city again?"

"Yeah. I thought maybe there'd be some kind of record for it here or something."

"Vait here, please."

The librarian went to the back room, while Fluey just stood there, and waited. The librarian in the meantime, was on the phone.

"I've got a young man here talkink about that city," she said. "I thought all of these nuts vere off the streets."

"Ve thought so to," the person on the other end of the phone said. "Don't vorry, ma'am. Ve'll take care of it. I'll send somevun down right avay. Just keep him there until ve arrive."

The librarian hung up the phone, and gathered some papers. Then she returned to the front desk, where she had left Fluey.

"Here is record of all cities in the immediate area," she said. "Included are photos. Do any of these look like the city you vere talkink about?"

"No," Fluey said. "I remember it was always snowing in this city. Which is kinda crazy for July, isn't it?"

"Da, it is," the librarian said. "Vhy don't you take a look at newspaper archives? They could help."

"Okay."

The librarian then showed Fluey the newspaper archives, and immediately, Fluey began searching. He found a particularly interesting article, which was dated nineteen years ago.

"Schizophrenia outbreak hits city," he read. "Patients claim to have been in a city where it is always snowing, and it is always day time. They claim to have been exposed to their futures by looking into a sphere, powered by a cube. They have said several 'volunteers' lost their lives due to exposure to this device. No one can prove such a city, or device exists. But . . . . how can that even be _poss_ible? I know what I saw! It _has_ to exist!"

As Fluey was reading the article, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and saw two men in white coats standing behind him.

"Uhhhh, hi," he said, standing up. "Uhhh, what's happening?"

"No need to get excited," one of the men said. "Just be good boy and come vith us."

"What do you mean?" Fluey asked. That was when he noticed one of the men was pulling a straight jacket out.

"Uh oh . . . ." Fluey said. "Looks like someone's got a chorus of 'They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha-Haaa' playing around here. I'm history!"

"Stop him!" one of the Russians shouted.

Immediately, Fluey took off running out of the library as fast as he could. He knew he wasn't crazy. He also knew if he didn't get out of there, he'd end up with a one way ticket to the Funny Farm! He shot out of the library, jumped into the Impossi-Mobile, and tore down the street, burning rubber behind him. As soon as he got up enough speed, he converted to Impossi-Jet. Or at least he tried to. He looked over his shoulder to see if those guys in the white coats were tailing him, and was just about to hit the button to convert, when he smashed the car right into a wall.

CRASH!

Fluey slammed against the steering wheel upon impact, and groaned. He wasn't hurt, just dazed. Dazed enough to allow the two men to take him into their custody. The next thing he knew, he was locked in a small room in the local mental institution. And this place was _really_ giving Fluey the creeps. He constantly heard moaning and screaming from various parts of the building. Every so often, he'd hear someone running down the hallway screaming.

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" someone yelled at the top of their voice. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

"Sheesh!" Fluey groaned. "I've gotta get out of here! And that's gonna be easier said than done!"

Fluey looked at the window in his room. There were bars on it. Without his transformer, there was no way Fluey could get through them. He looked out into the yard, and saw that the place was surrounded by a high fence topped with barbed wire.

"I wonder if they've got that fence electrified as well?" he asked. "I don't think I'd want to risk it . . . . ."

Fluey continued staring out into the yard. There were a couple of people running around out there. One person wearing a straight jacket was skipping around with a silly grin plastered on his face.

"They're coming to take me away, ha-ha, they're coming to take me away, ha-ha-hee-hee-ho-ho . . . . ." he chanted as he skipped.

Upon seeing _this_, Fluey stepped away from the window.

"Boy, if I don't get outta here soon, I'll have a very valid excuse to stay in here!" he shouted.

While Fluey sat in the cell (and trying to keep his sanity in check), back at the SSHQ, Phyllis was walking around, looking for Fluey. She ran into Multi and Coiley in the hallway.

"Hey, have you guys seen Fluey?" she asked. "I can't find him anywhere. I'd call on his communicator, but Reggie's still working on it."

"We haven't seen him since this morning," Multi said. "He was trying to convince us that Big D was still alive."

"We told him to get some sleep," Coiley said. "Hey, you don't think he went out to try and prove Big D really _is_ still alive, do you?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Phyllis groaned. "And I'll bet you anything that's _exactly_ what he did."

"Let's head out to the Impossi-Mobile and track him down," Coiley said.

The trio (well, quartet, including Skittles) went down to the SSHQ parking garage to get the Impossi-Mobile, only to find it gone.

"Oh no, he wouldn't," Phyllis said.

"He couldn't!" Multi shouted.

"He didn't," Coiley said.

"He would, he could, and he did," Mike replied, coming onto the scene. "I assume this is about Fluey, considerin' you guys are standin' where the Impossi-Mobile was parked, and I saw Fluey peal off down the street, and then go into jet mode."

"Oh that's just lovely," Phyllis grumbled. "_Now_ what do we do?"

"We can still track him down," Coiley said. "He may not have his communicator, but the Impossi-Mobile has a tracking device, _and _a communications console."

"Good plan, Coiley," Mike said, sarcastically. "And just how do you expect to go and get him after we've found out where he is?"

"What have you got in your hangar?" Phyllis asked.

"Well, I got this new one I just finished up," Mike said. "I call it the Rocket Rod. It's designed to be even faster than the Impossi-Mobile, _and_ Skittles combined. But it hasn't been road tested yet."

"Then we'll just road test it now," Phyllis said.

The group went over to Mike's hangar and found the car in question. It was black metal, with colored neon bars going around it. It's shape was that of a standard convertible, except it featured three sets of seats instead of two.

"Can it fly?" Multi asked.

"Yeah, it can go jet mode," Mike said. "This sucker is a two mode car. But I can't let you guys take her out. I just finished it, and I'd like to test run her on the test track before . . . . ."

"We're taking it out to road test it now," Phyllis said. "And that's an order!"

"Wait a minute, who are you to give me orders about how to . . . . ." Mike started.

"Because Big D said I was the new chief of the agency, that's why!" Phyllis yelled. Mike backed away nervously, and held up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay, you win, boss lady," Mike said. "Except _I'm_ gonna be the one to drive this sucker. I haven't installed the communications system in it yet, so we'll have to rely on Coiley's and Multi's guitars."

Phyllis agreed to that, and she, Multi, Coiley, and Skittles climbed into the high-tech car, and left the SSHQ building on their search. Unfortunately, in her haste, Phyllis had forgotten to inform the rest of the agency what she was up to, and she also forgot to leave someone in charge of the place.

That night, a visitor came to the SSHQ building. He managed to sneak inside during the "changing of the guards" (as the agents referred to it), and he snuck down to the holding area. Benedict was still in the cell.

"Psst!" he heard someone hiss. "Hey, mate. Over here!"

Benedict looked up and saw a tall man standing at the cell. He had dark hair, wore a black overcoat and sunglasses, and spoke with an Australian accent. He also had his arm in a sling.

"Who, me?" Benedict asked, standing up.

"Yeah, you," the stranger said. "You _are_ Arnold Benedict, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"Call me Tracker. I've got a proposition for ya, mate."

"What kind of a proposition?"

"How'd you like to rule the world?"

"I'm listening."

"If you help me get my hands on this device that will enable us to see the future, I'll let you help me rule the world. I just need help tracking it down."

"You're name's Tracker, and you need help tracking something?"

"Easy, mate. I'm more used to tracking people than I am tracking inanimate objects. When your former chief got his hands on that sphere, I was hired to track him down and get the sphere and give it to the Russian Underground. But that plan blew up. Besides, I was planning on keepin' that thing for myself. How's about it, mate?"

"If you can get me out of here, you've got a deal."

"Beauty."

Tracker took a lock pick out of his coat pocket, and carefully opened the lock on Benedict's cell.

"So, how do we get out of here without tripping the system?" Tracker asked.

"Follow me," Benedict said. "We'll have to head to the garage first. I'm sure Rogers has already left the building. He never works at this time of night. He oughta have an extra flying car around there somewhere."

Benedict led Tracker down to the garage. He was right. No one was around. They quickly found a miniature two-passenger jet Mike had finished tooling. It was tested, and ready to go. Tracker found the keys to it, and he and Benedict left the building.

"So where are we going?" Benedict asked.

"We have to find this city outside Moscow," Tracker said. "I know where it's located. But I warn you, you talk about that city, they're likely to toss you in the Happy Home. It's so well hidden, nobody thinks it exists."

Benedict nodded, not sure if he understood what was going on. But anything had to be better than a court-marshall, which he was certain he'd end up going through.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Rocket Rod was inspired by something my friend LadyMallard came up with, and named. She wrote an alternate ending to my story, "Family Secrets," where she had created the Rocket Rod._


	15. The Return

Fluey stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to get out of this nut house. Apparently, there were several patients there who _had_ been to that weird city, and they _had_ seen the sphere in action. But no one believed them about it.

"That couldn't have just been a dream," Fluey said. "I've had some doozies before, but they were _never_ quite like what Big D and I went through."

No matter how hard he thought about it, Fluey just couldn't come up with an answer. He finally ended up falling asleep. During the night, the door to his cell open, and someone crept into the room, slowly. Fluey heard the door open, and woke up.

"Who's there?" he asked. A hand clamped over his mouth suddenly.

"Shhhh!" someone with a French accent hissed. "Quiet! They weel hear you! I am going to get you out of here. Follow me."

Fluey still wasn't so sure about this, but he _had_ to get out of there before he cracked. He followed the Frenchman out of the cell, and down the hallway as quietly as they could. There were several other patients sneaking through the hallways a well. The Frenchman continued to lead the group through the hallways, and finally, out the front doors. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be smooth sailing. One of the nuts tripped an alarm, and lights started flashing and sirens began blaring.

"Sacres bleu!" the Frenchman shouted. "Zee gendarmes! Let us, how you say, split zee scene!"

Several of the inmates took off running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Some of them were even running around in circles. The staff was trying to round them all up, but it wasn't easy!

"Now ees our chance, yes?" the Frenchman said, grabbing Fluey's arm. "Go!"

Fluey and the Frenchman darted through the front gates and down the street as fast as they could. The men in the white coats followed them out, but managed to lose sight of them.

"Forget it," one said. "Ve need to get the others before _they _escape, too."

The two men went back to the building, shut the gates, and began rounding up the other nuts. Fluey and the Frenchman came out from an alley they had ducked into, and ran down the street, far away from the institution.

"That was close," Fluey said. "Thanks for getting me out of there, pal. Who are you, anyway?"

"Me?" the Frenchman asked. "I am . . . . .

The Frenchman suddenly whipped a hat out of his coat pocket, and stuck his hand inside his coat at his chest.

"Napoleon!" he shouted. "Which way ees Waterloo?"

And with that, the Frenchman walked off down the street, singing "Allouette," and dancing a little jig to it. Fluey watched him go, giving him a weird look.

"I'd better get going and find that city," he said. "But I'd better not ask for directions, or else I might wind up back in that cuckoo's nest! I'd better find the Impossi-Mobile. I wonder what they did with it?"

Fluey began wandering around, wondering where the heck he was, anyway. After he had crashed the Impossi-Mobile into that wall, the men in the white coats had pulled him out of the car, and everything was a blank after that. He figured he probably passed out en route to the institution. He was so deep in thought over his situation, he didn't notice a car coming right at him while he was crossing the street. A blaring car horn broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked up. He saw two headlights coming, but for some reason, just stood there like . . . . well, like a deer in the headlights. There was no time for him to move out of the way, and he hit the front of the car. The impact caused him to stumble backward, and he fell flat on his back, banging his head against the pavement, and knocking himself out.

Meanwhile, the Rocket Rod had reached Russia, and the radar on Coiley's guitar began beeping louder.

"We must be on the right track," he said.

"I hope so," Multi said. "What makes him think Big D's still alive?"

"I don't know," Phyllis said, shrugging.

"Hey, I think I see the Impossi-Mobile down there," Mike said.

"Take 'er down, Mike," Multi said. "Let's check this out."

Mike landed the Rocket Rod, and switched it back over to car mode. Then he and the others got out, and walked over to where Mike thought he saw the Impossi-Mobile.

"A scrap yard?!" Coiley shouted incredulously.

"After all the hours I put into that car, they throw it in the scrap heap?!" Mike shouted.

"Chill for a sec, Mike," Phyllis said. "Let's go inside and get to the bottom of this."

The group walked into the scrap yard, and found a guy pushing an old Volkswagen onto the lot.

"Excuse me," Phyllis said. "We were wondering about a car in the lot?"

"Vhich vun, lady?" the man asked. "I got lots of 'em."

"The red-orange guitar-shaped one with the blue fantails and crushed hood," Coiley said.

"Oh, da, da, _that_ vun," the guy said. "That vun just came in the other night. Or maybe mornink. I don't remember vhich."

"Yeah, well, that's our car," Multi said. He took out his wallet, and pulled out a couple of folded pieces of papers. It was a copy of the Impossi-Mobile's registration papers. He always carried them with him in case something like _this_ should happen. The man took a look at the registration, and nodded.

"Keys in the dash," he said.

"Thanks," Mike said. "Incidentally, you know what happened to it?"

"Da, the boys at the psycho hospital said kid vas drivink," the man said. "They said kid vas another schizo, talkink about city that doesn't exist. They said he crashed it into a vall."

"Psycho hospital?" Coiley repeated. "Uh oh."

"Da, the Anastasia Mental Institution," the guy said.

"I don't like the sound of that one bit," Phyllis said. "We'd better check this out. Coiley, you Multi, and Skittles take the Impossi-Mobile. Mike and I will take the Rocket Rod."

"Gotcha," Multi said, and the group split up. Thankfully, the Impossi-Mobile started up. The only damage to it was the hood, and Mike would be able to hammer out the dents in no time once they got back to HQ.

The Rocket Rod arrived at the mental institution first, and Mike and Phyllis went inside to question the staff.

"We're looking for a young man named Franklin McAlister," Phyllis said. "We have reason to believe he was taken here."

The nurse at the reception desk began checking the records. After a few moments of searching, she turned to Mike and Phyllis.

"Da, he vus here," she said. "At least until early this mornink."

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

"Ve had a jailbreak early this mornink," the nurse said. "An entire fleet of cuckoo's nearly flew the coop. Ve managed to catch most of them except for this McAlister kid, and Pierre Le Coucou. And let me tell you sometink. Pierre Le Coucou should be put into a clock!"

"Let me guess," Mike said. "He's that cuckoo, huh?"

"Da, _that's_ for sure!" the nurse said. "He thinks he's Napoleon. I don't know vhy they brought in the McAlister kid, though. He seemed pretty sane to me. Except for talkink about an abandoned city vhere it snowed and it vas alvays daytime. Ve got a lot of those nuts in here already. That city just doesn't exist."

"What do you make of this, Mike?" Phyllis asked.

"Sounds like he's in deep," Mike said. "I knew he was upset over the chief, but I didn't think he'd take a turn into Demtento-ville!"

"We'd better find him," Phyllis said, and turned to the nurse. "Thanks for your help."

Both Mike and Phyllis went back to the Rocket Rod. Mike started it up, and Phyllis took her compact out of her purse, and opened it.

"Phyllis to Coil Man, do you read me?" she asked.

"Coil Man here," Coiley said, as his image appeared in the "mirror" of the compact. "Did you find out anything?"

"Fluey was definitely at the Anastasia Mental Institution," Phyllis said. "But somehow or another, he escaped with a Frenchman who thinks he's Napoleon."

"What was Fluey doing in a looney bin, anyway?"

"They think he might he schizophrenic because he was asking about a city where it always snowed and it was always day time. And if he's convinced Big D's still alive . . . . ."

"Do you think it's possible? I know he was pretty upset, but you don't think . . . ."

"I don't think he's completely cracked. Just a bit delusional. But whatever the case may be, we'd better find him. If he's with a guy who thinks he's Napoleon . . . . ."

"Yeah, you never know when people with delusions of grandeur can be dangerous. Coil out."

Coiley signed off, and he and Multi converted to Impossi-Jet in order to better search the area. They had to rely on sight, and Skittles's nose, since Fluey didn't have his wrist communicator.

Fluey, in the meantime, was starting to come to his senses. His head was killing him.

"Ooooh . . . . . my aching head!" he moaned. He started to sit up, but someone pushed him back down.

"Don't move, dahlink," a familiar, Russian accented voice said. "You have nasty bump on the head."

Fluey could barely make out the figure standing over him. His vision was blurred too much. From what he could tell, the person was a woman (he could tell by her voice), wearing pink. She was also holding something against Fluey's head. It felt like an ice pack. Finally, Fluey's vision cleared a bit.

"Hey . . . ." he said. "It's you . . . . uhhh . . . . uhhhh . . . . ."

"Natasha Glamorski," the woman said. "And you are Mr. Dawson's grandson, yes?"

"Yeah," Fluey said. Then he cringed at the pain. "Oooh! What hit me!"

"My car," another familiar voice said, coming into the room. Fluey recognized her as "the creepy Narnia lady" (as he called her when he and Big D were in the temple).

"What were you doing out in the middle of the road?!" Narnia asked, sounding perturbed. "Don't you know that's a good way to get killed?!"

"Narnia, please," Natasha said. "Not so loud. Boychick has headache!"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Fluey said. "What happened, anyway?"

"Ve vere drivink along the road early this mornink," Natasha said. "Suddenly, you came out in the middle of road, and ve barely had time to stop the car."

"You're lucky you weren't killed when we hit you," Narnia said. "That must've been a bad bump though, you've been asleep for almost twelve hours!"

"Vhat vere you doink, anyvay?" Natasha asked.

"Escaping from the Funny Farm," Fluey said. "They locked me up in there because I was talking about the city . . . . . you two know about the city, don't you? I mean, I mean, you two were there!"

"Yeah, we were there," Narnia said. "But we don't talk about it around here. You already found out why, kid."

"But vhat are you doink back here?" Natasha asked.

"I've got to find that city again," Fluey said. "I need to find the chief. I know he's still alive!"

"Don't be silly," Narnia said, waving it off. "He's gone. Natasha told me herself. She said she found both you and your grandpa. Grandpa was already gone, you were unconscious, but still alive, so she took you back to where you belong."

"But he just _can't_ be dead! I can feel it. My instincts are telling me he's alive! I just _know_ it! Do either of you know how to get back to that city?"

"Da, but . . . . ." Natasha started.

"Please . . . . . please, you've _got_ to take me back there!" Fluey shouted. "I _have_ to find out the truth!"

"I don't know . . . . I don't think that's such good idea, I mean . . . . ."

"Please! I'm begging you, I just _have_ to see the chief! I know he isn't dead! I just know it! Please!"

Natasha took a quick glance at Fluey. She saw the desperation in his eyes, and bit her lower lip. Then she sighed.

"All right," she said. "I vill take you to the city's edge. But you are on your own after that."

Fluey was satisfied with that. Around midnight, Fluey and Natasha went out to Natasha's car, and drove off. Natasha didn't like doing this.

"Von't you change your mind?" she asked. "It could be dangerous."

"I don't care," Fluey said. "I _have_ to find out. I need to know if he's really dead. I'm sure he isn't."

"Please, don't do this. No good vill come of this."

But Fluey's mind was made up, and once his mind was made up, there was no changing it. Natasha pulled into a tunnel, and drove straight through. On the other end was the passage to the temple, where she last saw Big D.

"This is fastest route to the temple," she said. "If you vant to go ahead vith this, then I vish you good luck. As I said before, you are on your own. I vant nothink more to do vith this place."

"Thanks for the lift," Fluey said, climbing out of the car. Once he was out, Natasha drove away.

Fluey walked into the second tunnel. He found himself in that weird temple where he last saw the chief.

"Chief!" he called out. "Hey, chief, where are you?!"

All Fluey heard was his echo. All he saw around the place were those weird cubes Big D had used to look into that weird sphere. After seeing what happened to Big D after using them, Fluey wasn't eager to find out exactly how they worked. He just hoped it wouldn't come to having to use them.

Fluey walked along, calling out Big D's name, but he didn't get any answer, except for his own echo. His search went on for hours, but he couldn't find any trace of Big D anywhere. He finally approached a room where he found the sphere, and not much else.

"He isn't here," he said, dejectedly. "Maybe my intuition was wrong. Maybe he really _is_ gone."

Fluey looked over at the sphere, and then grabbed it from it's setting.

"And it's all this stupid thing's fault!" he yelled. "If it hadn't been for this stupid hunk of glass, we wouldn't have been in that mess in the first place, and Big D would still be alive! I'm gonna get rid of this thing once and for all! I'll smash this thing to smithereens!"

Fluey raised the sphere above his head, ready to throw it, when suddenly, something began creeping up from underneath the ground. They looked like vines of some sort, only they were glowing. Fluey stopped what he was doing and stared at them. The vines were coming closer and closer to him, and then, they started winding themselves around his legs. More vines came out of the walls, and began winding themselves around his arms, and torso. Fluey tried to pull away, but the vines seemed to get tighter and tighter the more he moved.

"What's happening?!" he shouted. "I . . . . I can barely breathe! What . . . . . is this, a squeeze play?!"

The vines became tighter and tighter. They had the grip of a boa constrictor. Fluey lost his grip on the sphere, and it fell. One of the vines caught it before it could hit the ground.

"You tried to steal the sphere," a mysterious, ominous voice echoed through the walls of the cave. "Now you must be punished. All who take the sphere shall be punished."

"No . . . . no wait!" Fluey shouted, gasping. "Pl . . . . please . . . . . no . . . . . somebody help!"

The more Fluey tried to fight the glowing vines off, the tighter they became. Finally, he just stopped trying to resist, and started to lose consciousness. Suddenly, he heard a noise that sounded like a gun firing. The glowing vines suddenly loosened their killer grip, unwound themselves, and slithered back to where they came from. Fluey collapsed to the ground, breathless. He looked up, and saw a shadowy figure coming toward him. Just as the figure came close, Fluey lost consciousness.


	16. Reunited

Fluey moaned, as he started coming back into consciousness. His head hurt (but that was probably from being hit by Narnia's car), and he felt dizzy and disoriented, and out of breath. He opened his eyes about halfway, and realized he was still in the temple of that weird city, but it appeared he was in a different part of it. And he wasn't alone, either. He looked up, and managed to make out a familiar figure sitting next to him.

"Chief?" he asked, uncertainly.

"None other," Big D said. Immediately, Fluey sat up, and flung his arms around his grandfather's neck.

"You're alive!" he shouted. "I knew it! I knew it! I just knew you were alive!"

"I won't be for long if you don't loosen your grip!" Big D shouted, sounding a bit strangled. "You're choking me!"

"Sorry," Fluey said, letting go.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Big D shouted. "And what were you trying to do out there with that sphere?"

"I don't know," Fluey said, with a sigh. "My instinct was telling me that you were still alive. When I couldn't find you around here, I thought my intuition was wrong, and I just wanted to smash that stupid sphere because I thought it killed you. Why'd you tell Natasha to tell everyone you were dead, anyway?"

"To avoid something like this from happening," Big D said. "I didn't take into consideration your intuition. Believe me, I knew if you knew I was still alive, you'd try to come and find me."

"But what are you still doing here?"

"It's a long story."

"Go on and tell me. I don't have anything better to do."

"Yes, you do. Judging by the size of that lump on your head, I suggest you lie down and go back to sleep for awhile. I'll figure out what to do with you later."

"Aw, come on, chief. I'm okay. I'm not even sleepy!"

Fluey stifled a yawn when he said that. Big D knew better. He could see Fluey was clearly exhausted, and about ready to pass out any second.

"Yes, you are," he said, gently pushing Fluey down to the floor. "Nap time for you. Come on."

Fluey stifled another yawn, rested his head on Big D's leg, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. That might have been easier than arguing, anyway.

"Honestly, child, I'm going to have to start keeping you on a leash if this keeps up," Big D said, and he started stroking his grandson's hair.

Meanwhile, Multi, Coiley, and Skittles were still cruising in the Impossi-Jet, looking for Fluey, when the onboard computer began beeping. Multi looked over at it, and typed in something on the dashboard.

"This is really weird," he said.

"What?" Coiley asked.

"According to the onboard tracking system . . . ." Multi said. Then he stopped. "No. No, it _can't_ be possible! Can it?"

"What is it, Multi?"

"The onboard tracking system is picking up a signal . . . . . from Big D's wrist communicator!"

"What?! I'd better call Phyllis!"

Coiley grabbed his guitar, and tuned in to Phyllis's compact.

"Coil Man calling Phyllis," he said. "Come in!"

"What's up, Coiley?" Phyllis asked.

"We just got a signal on the Impossi-Jet's computer," Coiley said. "It's coming from Big D's communicator."

"But that's impossible!" Phyllis shouted.

"Impossible or not, I think we ought to follow it," Multi said. "Maybe it will lead us to where Fluey is."

"It's worth a shot," Phyllis said. "I'll tune my compact to the Impossi-Jet and Mike and I will meet you wherever. Over and out."

Coiley signed off, and he and Multi took off. Just as Phyllis turned off her compact, it began beeping again.

"Phyllis here," he said.

"Where in the wide world of sports _are_ you?!" Reggie shouted.

"Russia," Phyllis said. "We're trying to find Fluey. He's convinced Big D's still alive, and . . . . ."

"You could've at least told us that before you left. We've been going crazy looking for you! We've got an emergency situation here!"

"Well, can't you take care of it? You can be chief until we get back, Reg."

"Okay, but I feel it's my duty to tell you, Lady Chief, Benedict busted out."

"What?! Oh great, that's about all I _don't_ need right now! My grandfather is dead, I get put in charge of the entire organization that I have absolutely _no_ _clue_ how to run, my brother's run away from home, and now this!"

"What do you want us to do, Lady Chief?"

"First of all, tell Doc Phelps I want him in charge of the agency until I get back. Second of all, get Agents Caufield, Robertson, and Granson on the Benedict case. Tell them to report any leads they get to Dr. Phelps, because I'm too busy worrying about Fluey to deal with it."

"Gotcha, Lady Chief."

"Oh, and Reggie, one more thing."

"What?"

"_Don't call me chief!_"

And with that, Phyllis slammed her compact shut and practically growled.

"I _told_ Big D I _never_ wanted to be chief!" she yelled. "Why'd he have to go and give me this job?!"

"Maybe he felt you're the only one he trusts," Mike said. "Turn that thing back onto the trackers. We've got to catch up to Multi and Coiley and get to the bottom of this."

Phyllis nodded, and turned the trackers on her compact back on. They managed to track down the Impossi-Jet at a strange tunnel at the end of a road. All they could do was stare at the entrance. Skittles sniffed around, and suddenly went into her pointer routine (_poing!_)

"I think Skittles thinks there's something in there," Multi said.

"I don't know if we should go through that tunnel," Mike said. "We don't know what's in there and you guys don't have your powers."

"I vouldn't recommend it, either," a voice said. "But I think it vould be in everyvun's best interests if you did."

Everyone turned around and saw Natasha standing behind them.

"Who's she?" Coiley asked.

"The Russian woman who found Big D," Phyllis said.

"I don't get it," Multi said. "First you said you don't recommend going in there, and then you say we should?"

"Da, I know it's odd," Natasha said. "And I shouldn't have allowed it. But your friend is in there now. Believe me, you must get him out of there and quickly. He vill be unable to survive in there. The city has no resources vhatsoever. No food, no vater, no nothink! Please, _please,_ talk him out of vhatever he is doink in there!"

"Do you know what he's doing in there?" Coiley asked.

"Tryink to find his grandfather," Natasha said.

"I think all he might be able to come up with is his communicator," Phyllis said, looking at her compact. "According to this, the signal's coming from whatever's on the other side of this tunnel."

"I might as vell tell you," Natasha groaned. "He didn't vant me to tell you the truth."

"Who?" Coiley asked.

"Your boss," Natasha said. "He is indeed alive, and still in the city, but he vouldn't say vhy. All he said vas that none of you could find out the truth."

"So Fluey was right after all," Multi said.

"That boy's intuition," Phyllis sighed, shaking her head. "When will we ever learn to take it seriously?"

"What's on the other end of this tunnel, anyway?" Mike asked.

"The city the Russian Underground took your friend to vhen they kidnapped him," Natasha explained. "Trust me, it is not alvays daytime and it is not snowink. Those vere just the side effects experienced by the drugs the Russian Underground administered to the boy, and vhat vent into the coffee I drugged your chief vith. I didn't vant to do it, but I felt I had no choice in the matter. Come. I vill lead you to vhere they are. I only hope boychick found my Babushkins and they are together. Othervise, ve are in for a long search."

"Well, then, let's go!" Mike shouted, a bit eagerly.

"You're not actually going to follow her in there, are you?" Coiley asked.

"Why not?" Mike said, shrugging. "If she's gotta build like that, I'll follow her all they way into the gates of He . . . . . _ow_!"

Phyllis punched Mike in the shoulder as hard as she could before he could finish that sentence.

The gang was a little apprehensive about this. They weren't sure whether or not to trust Natasha. Multi glanced down at Skittles for a second. She was just standing there, sniffing at Natasha. Then she turned to her mop-topped master and barked.

"Okay," he said, picking up his puppy. "We'll follow you. Skittles knows the difference between friends and foes."

"Thank you, comrade," Natasha said. "Come on. Ve must hurry!"

The group raced through the tunnel as fast as they could. Unknown to them, they were being watched by none other than Tracker and Arnold Benedict.

"I knew following Big D's granddaughter and her posse would come in handy," Benedict said.

"Right then," Tracker said. "All we've got to do is hone in on their tracking devices with yours, and let _them_ do the searching. All we gotta do is let the tracker lead us right to that old geezer, and then we'll have the sphere. What can that old man do to us, anyway?"

"You don't know Big D like I do, Tracker. He's a lot tougher than he looks. I say we wait for an opportunity to open up, and use it."

"You got a plan?"

"Not yet, but we'll cross that bridge when he come to it."

Tracker nodded, and he and Benedict followed the signal they were receiving on Benedict's SSHQ tracking device.

Back in the temple, Fluey was beginning to wake up from that nap. He felt a little better, but still a little tired and weak from the glowing vine attack.

"Glad to see you're awake," Big D said, coming over. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, a little," Fluey said. "Oooh . . . . I think my head's gonna be aching for awhile."

"How did you get that bump on the back of your head, anyway?"

"I got hit by a car. I had escaped from a nut house, and I wasn't paying attention to where I was going or what I was doing and . . . . ."

"Hold it, hold it. What do you mean nut house?"

"Oh the local librarian had me locked up in the looney bin after I described the city. I found out there was a schizophrenia outbreak where people said they were in this city where it was always day time and where it always snowed, and where people were killed by a sphere."

"If I hadn't been to this city myself, Fluid, I'd probably do the same thing if you told me that story. But how were you able to find this place? Your communicator had been smashed."

"Natasha Glamorski. She was the one who hit me with the car. She took me back to your place, and I asked her to bring me back here. But she wouldn't come in. She tried to talk me out of it."

"I have to wonder when you're going to learn to obey your elders, Fluid. You're just like your father in that regard. Bullheaded."

"By the way, what was with those vines? Why'd they try to kill me?"

"It's part of a security system on the sphere. They react whenever anyone tries to take it. Vladimir must have been armed with a knife or a gun or something when he stole it, but since you had no means of defense . . . . . you're lucky I heard you call for help. I just shot at the wall to get them to release you."

"Yeah, otherwise . . . . . _pphhhhhtttt_!"

"You certainly have a way with words, Fluid, you know that."

Fluey was about to respond when both he, and Big D, heard footsteps in another part of the temple, coming right at them.

"Someone . . . . or some_thing_ is coming," Big D said.

"What do you think it is, chief?" Fluey asked.

"Only one way to find out. Stay here."

Fluey nodded. Big D started to leave the room to investigate the footsteps, when he suddenly saw a flash of light coming right at him. Not having time to move out of the way, the light slammed right into Big D's chest, and knocked him off his feet. He then felt like an animal was licking his face rapidly.

"Hmm, dog breath," he commented, calmly. "How charming."

"Skittles!" Big D heard Multi call out, and then whistle. "Here girl! Where are you?"

"Over here!" Big D called. Multi rounded a corner, and saw Big D sprawled out on the floor, with Skittles on his chest, licking his face.

"Chief!" he shouted, surprised. Then he realized Skittles had given Big D one of her usual greetings, and smiled sheepishly. "Uhhh, sorry about Skittles, chief. She tends to get excited when she sees one of us."

"So I've noticed," Big D said. "But I admit, I'm glad she seems to be recovered from the attack on headquarters. Would you mind calling her off, please?"

"Sure, chief," Multi said. "Come here, girl!"

Skittles gave Big D's face a final lick, and trotted over to Multi, like a pony. The others arrived shortly afterward.

"Chief!" Phyllis shouted, and she ran to her grandfather, giving him a huge hug. "I'm so glad you're all right!"

"Where's Fluey?" Coiley asked.

"Guys? What are you doing here?!" Fluey asked, walking over.

"Why do I even _bother_ telling you to stay put?" Big D sighed. "You _never_ do it!"

"Sorry, but I thought I heard Multi out here, and I wanted to check," Fluey said, shrugging.

"Oh, Fluey, thank goodness you're all right!" Phyllis yelled, scooping her brother up into an enormous hug.

"Yeah, okay, I missed you, too, sis," Fluey said. "Would you mind letting go? I've been squeezed enough for one day."

Phyllis let go, and then suddenly slapped her brother across the face as hard as she could.

"Ow!" Fluey shouted, grabbing his stinging cheek. "What was that for?!"

"Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again!" Phyllis yelled. "You shouldn't have run off like you did! We were all worried sick about you!"

"What are you, my mother?" Fluey asked.

"She has a valid point, young man," Big D said. "You shouldn't have tried to find me."

"What are you doing here, anyway, Big D?" Coiley asked. "Natasha here told us you were still alive."

"I had no choice, Babushkins," Natasha said, walking over to the chief. "I had to tell them so they could get Fluid out of here. He vill not be able to survive in this city. None of you vill. I'm not even sure how you're able to."

"It's a long story," Big D said.

"Yeah, well, you can tell it to us on the way back home, chief," Fluey said. "Oh, Mike, about the Impossi-Mobile . . . . ."

"I already know," Mike said. "Lucky for you, it's only cosmetic damage. Nothin' ol' Betsy can't take care of."

"Ol' Betsy?" Natasha repeated. "Who is ol' Betsy?"

"His sledgehammer," Phyllis said.

"Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand!" Fluey shouted.

"I'm afraid that is out of the question," Big D said. "I can't leave this city."

"Why not?" Fluey asked. "Don't tell me you actually _want_ to stay here!"

"I don't," Big D sighed. "It's hard to explain, Fluid, but . . . . . I'm afraid I am unable to leave this place."

"Chief, maybe you should tell us that long story," Multi said. "It's the only way you'll get any of us to understand."

"Very well," Big D said, sitting down. Skittles went over to him, and jumped into is lap. "Let me start from the beginning, when this whole mess got started."

Big D started the explanation from when he woke up in the infirmary after the initial attack (for Multi and Coiley's benefit, since they had no idea _what_ in the world had happened after they had been shot). He explained about meeting Natasha, waking up in the city, going through heck and back in that city, thanks to Dimetri and the Russian Underground, and finally, the sphere.

"Every time I looked into that thing, I felt as if I was having an out of body experience," Big D said. "It was quite painful, as if my soul was tearing itself away from my body. The only thing that helped were these odd pills."

"Da," Natasha confirmed. "But the scientists that deweloped them never got around to perfectink them."

"So I've noticed," Big D said. "Anyway, looked into the sphere one last time, trying to find a way out of this temple. Unfortunately, it didn't show me the way out."

"Yeah, and that's when he . . . . well . . . ." Fluey said, waving his hand in a circle. The others got the drift.

"In any case," Big D continued, "After I had . . . . . expired, let's say, I felt my soul leaving my body, and I went to this . . . . . well, I don't know exactly. I think it was Limbo. An apparition told me I had to pay for using the sphere. It told me it must be guarded from evil. The sphere can see into the future. And it would mean great disaster if it fell into the hands of evil. The apparition gave me immortality, so that I may guard the sphere for all time."

"For all time?" Fluey repeated. "As in forever?"

"I'm afraid so," Big D said.

"But why did you leave _me_ in charge?" Phyllis asked. "I already told you once I wouldn't want the job full time."

"I know, but you're the only one I trust," Big D said. "I've taught you everything just in case this day should come. And I don't dare have Fluid be the one in charge at this point. Maybe when he's twenty-one, he may take over, but for now . . . . ."

"Being the chief is not part of the job description," Fluey interrupted, standing up. "I can't believe you're just gonna sit here in this stupid city just to guard a hunk of glass!"

"Fluid, I don't have a choice," Big D said. "If I could leave the city, I would, but I can't."

"But you've _got_ to come back! Isn't there _any_thing we can do?"

"I'm . . . . . . not sure there is . . . . ."

Fluey looked directly at the chief, and realized he was lying.

"You're lying," he said. "There _is_ a way out of this! What is it?"

"No . . . . . no, I refuse to tell you."

"Well . . . . . well if you're not going back, then I'm not either!"

"Fluey, you can't be serious!" Coiley shouted.

"You _can't_ stay here," Natasha said. "You vill be unable to survive! There is no food, or vater, or anythink in the city!"

"Then I'll use the sphere!" Fluey shouted. "I'll be the one to guard it!"

"You will do no such thing!" Big D shouted. "I realize you're upset, Fluid, but you _have_ to return to Megatropolis. You can't possibly survive here!"

"But . . . . but chief . . . . you've got to come back! What about your family?! What about _us_?!"

"Fluid, _please_ don't start laying on the guilt."

"Don't you even _care_ about me and Phyllis?"

"Fluid, you're beginning to try my patience . . . . ."

"_Don't_ you?!"

"That's enough! I know you don't deal with big changes well, but you are just going to have to accept this! Besides which, you are acting like a spoiled child, and you are much too old for this sort of behavior! You are going back to Megatropolis with the others, and you are going to resume your normal duties, and you are going to shape up and pull yourself together! I'm tired of your immature, childish behavior! You have _got_ to learn to start acting your age! Do I make myself clear?!"

Fluey didn't answer the chief. He just glared at him, turned, and ran from the room as fast as he could. Big D mentally kicked himself for losing his temper. He knew Fluey was having a difficult time accepting this, and yelling at him wasn't going to help him at all. He began leaving the room.

"Wait a minute, chief," Coiley said. "Don't you think you ought to let him cool off a minute?"

"No," Big D said. "This temple is a large labyrinth, and even though it's only been a few seconds, he could already be anywhere in any of these corridors."

"Yeah, and we don't know how long it'll take to find him," Mike said. "I'm with Big D. We oughta start lookin' for him now."

"Da, he does not know the vay out," Natasha said. "It is not easy gettink back to vhere ve came in."

"There are two main hallways from here," Big D said. "Agents Coil and Multi, you and your dog take the one to the left, and start there. Phyllis, you and Rogers take the one to the right. Both of those hallways lead to various corridors. Set your tracking devices to lock in on my communicator. That way, you'll find your way back a little easier."

"You're not goink to look, Babushkins?" Natasha asked.

"No," Big D replied, shaking his head. "I need to stay here. I don't think Fluid would be willing to listen to me at this point. Besides, if I _don't_ stay here, the others will only get themselves lost."

"Good thinkink," Natasha said. "I vill stay here vith you, and keep you company. Then maybe ve can get to know each other a little better, yes?"

"You don't give up easily, do you, Ms. Glamorski?"

"Nyet, Babushkins. Vinnink your heart vill be a challenge. And the greater the challenge, the sveeter the victory."

Big D had to admit, he admired Natasha's persistence. But he knew a romantic relationship with her would never work out.

Meanwhile, Fluey was sitting alone in a section of the temple.

"This is so complicated," he groaned. "Why won't the chief tell us what we can do to get him out of here? Why does he even _want_ to stay here anyway? I know he doesn't. Why won't he let us find a way?"

Fluey sat there and continued to think this out when he heard footsteps approaching. He groaned, thinking it was either the chief, or one of the others. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

"If that's you or Multi, Coiley, go away!" he shouted. "I don't want to talk!"

"We're not here for talking, mate," an Australian accented voice said. Fluey looked over his shoulder, and saw both Tracker and Benedict standing behind him. Before he could do anything, Tracker grabbed him, and pressed a cloth firmly over his nose and mouth. Fluey let out a scream, and struggled, but it did him no good whatsoever. He was out like a light in a matter of seconds.

"I must say, you're idea of waiting for an opportunity to open up worked like a charm," Tracker said, tying Fluey's wrists behind his back, and then he got started tying his ankles together.

"Yeah," Benedict said. "Now that we've got him, I'm sure Big D will give us the sphere without incident."

Tracker then slung Fluey over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he and Benedict left the room, laughing evilly. All they had to do now was track down Big D.


	17. Cave In

Big D sat around, staring at the sphere that got him into this mess in the first place. Natasha was standing behind him, massaging his shoulders.

"They vill find him," she said. "I've heard of these Impossibles of yours. They'll come through."

"I know," Big D said. "But I don't want _any _of them to find out what it will take to allow me to get out of here."

"Vhat vill it take?"

"Fluid was on the right track when he said he'd use the sphere. And that's all I'm saying."

A few moments later, Mike and Phyllis returned to the room, looking dejected.

"Any luck?" Big D asked.

"None whatsoever," Mike sighed. "We need a communicator or somethin' chief. We won't be able to find him without it!"

"I could kill him for leaving without taking one," Phyllis grumbled. "Why does he go and _do_ these things, anyway?"

"Because the boy is as stubborn as a mule," Big D said. "Your father was the same way, Phyllis."

Moments later, Multi, Coiley, and Skittles returned. Skittles was whimpering, and she climbed up on Big D's lap.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," Big D said, scratching the puppy behind her ears. "No luck?"

"Nothing," Multi said, shrugging. "Skittles couldn't even pick up his scent."

"Now I know why they're called mazes," Mike said. "It's amazin' how you can find _any_thing in them!"

"I hope Fluey's all right," Phyllis said.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about your baby brother, Phyllis," a voice said. Everyone turned around to look in the direction the voice came from and found none other than Arnold Benedict standing there.

"Benedict, you traitor!" Big D growled, standing up. "I've a good mind to . . . . ."

"Easy, chiefy," Benedict said. "You don't want to do anything hasty. Especially not if you want Fluey to remain healthy."

Tracker then made his appearance into the room. He threw an unconscious Fluey to the floor, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and held a knife to his throat. Big D stopped in his tracks. Phyllis let out a gasp. Skittles began growling, and got ready to charge.

"Call off the dog, Multi," Benedict said. "My friend, Tracker, doesn't like dogs. They make him nervous."

"Darn right," Tracker said. "And when I get nervous, mate, I don't know what I might do."

"Heel, Skittles," Multi ordered. "Sit."

Skittles obeyed, but she didn't like it. She wanted to tear this Aussie outlaw to pieces, but she knew she couldn't just yet. And even if she could, who's to say the knife wouldn't slip?

"If you hurt him in any way, Benedict . . . . ." Big D started.

"Relax, chiefy," Benedict said. "He's okay. Though we had to sedate him. But he'll come out of it. Eventually. As long as you do what we say."

"Very well," Big D said. "I don't like making deals with the enemy, Benedict, but since you _do_ have the upper hand . . . . ."

"A wise decision, mate," Tracker said.

"And I assume you two don't have access to your powers?" Benedict asked, turning to Multi and Coiley.

"Yes," Coiley said, though he didn't want to admit it.

"Good," Benedict said. "Now then, Big D, I shall let Tracker take the floor."

"Thank you, Benny," Tracker said, and then turned to Big D. "Now then, mate, let's make a deal, shall we? We want the sphere. You give us the sphere, and we'll give you your grandson."

"Deal," Big D said, immediately. He didn't even pause to think about it!

"What?!" the others shouted, like they couldn't believe it.

"You're kidding," Benedict said.

"No, I'm not kidding," Big D said. "I'll give you that sphere, but on one condition."

"And that is?" Tracker asked.

"You let my grandson go this minute," Big D said. "If you don't, then I won't hand over the sphere."

"How do we know you're not just gonna take the sphere and run once we let your brat go?" Tracker asked.

"Sir, I give you my word," Big D said. "You let him go first, and then I'll give you the sphere. And I _always_ keep my word. Isn't that so, Benedict?"

"That's true, Track," Benedict said. "Big D has _never _broken his word after he gives it."

"All right, have it your way, old man," Tracker said, and he practically threw Fluey at the chief's feet. Multi and Coiley immediately got to work untying him.

"Are you _sure_ you want to do this?" Phyllis asked. "You said so yourself if that sphere . . . . ."

"I know what I'm doing," Big D said.

"But you can't just . . . . ."

"My dear, you know that I _always_ keep my word."

Big D walked over to the sphere, picked it up, and walked over to Tracker and Benedict. He gave the sphere to Benedict, as well as a cube.

"Now then," he said. "I'm sure you gentlemen would like to test it out to make sure I haven't given you a fake."

"Right," Benedict said. "So, Track, how does this baby work?"

"Aim it at the cube, and watch the future materialize," Tracker said. "And once we see the future, we'll be rich, famous, and rule the world!"

Big D took a couple of steps back. The others were looking at him as if he had gone completely crazy. Big D ignored their stares, and kneeled next to Fluey, who was finally starting to come around.

"Ohhhh, what a headache!" he groaned. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain later," Big D said.

Benedict held out the cube while Tracker aimed the sphere toward it. Something began to materialize in it. It was the temple. And both Tracker and Benedict were inside of it. A moment later, the sphere showed them leaving the temple, and trying to leave the city, but for some reason, they were unable to.

"_This_ is our future?!" Benedict shouted.

"Hey . . . . hey, what's happening?!" Tracker shouted. "What's that pain?!"

"I don't know, but I feel it too!" Benedict shouted.

Both Benedict and Tracker fell to the ground, screaming, groaning, moaning, and writhing in pain.

"Hollerin' hi-fi's!" Coiley shouted. "What's wrong with them?"

"This is what happened when Big D looked into that sphere the last time," Fluey said.

In a chorus of moans and groans, Tracker and Benedict collapsed to the ground in a lifeless heap.

"Are they . . . . ." Phyllis started.

"It may look like it now, but trust me, they aren't," Big D said, looking at his watch. "Wait a few minutes."

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Tracker and Benedict came to.

"Oooh . . . . what happened?" Benedict asked.

"I think I just had an out of body experience," Tracker said. "It was really weird."

"Yeh, this apparition told us we couldn't leave," Benedict said. "It said we had to guard the sphere as punishment for using it."

"Isn't that something," Big D said, smugly. "Now that everything has been taken care of, and you two can't leave the city, I'll be heading back to the office and resuming my position."

"Wait a minute!" Multi shouted. "You _knew _that was going to happen, chief?"

"Indeed I did," Big D replied. "That was my way out. I could have my freedom if I managed to find someone to use the sphere and take my place. That's why I didn't want to tell any of you about it. I knew one of you would try to look into that sphere. I wanted it to be someone who deserved it."

"Yeah, Benedict certainly deserves it all right!" Coiley shouted.

Everyone laughed, and the group began to leave. But before they left, they heard a gunshot, followed by the sound of glass shattering, and then, the walls and the floor began to shake violently.

"What's happening?!" Phyllis shouted, grabbing onto Big D's arm, nervously.

"Earth type quake, maybe?" Natasha suggested.

"We took care of that sphere all right," Tracker said. "Now, we don't have anything to guard, and we're free to leave."

"FOOLS!" a mysterious voice bellowed from apparently nowhere. "YOU HAVE DESTROYED THE SPHERE! NOW YOU MUST PAAAAAYYYYY!"

"I think maybe we oughta get outta here . . . . ." Fluey said, nervously.

Just then, rocks began falling from the ceiling, nearly hitting everyone. Skittles let out a yip, and ducked behind Multi's leg.

"Cave in!" Phyllis shouted.

"Follow me!" Natasha yelled. "And hurry!"

"Forget it, sister," Tracker said. "I don't follow no sheila. I'm makin' my own way outta here!"

"I'm with him!" Benedict shouted.

"I think it would be wise for you to follow us, Benedict," Big D said.

"And go back to the slammer? Are you nuts?! Wait for me, Tracker!"

And with that, Benedict and Tracker raced down a corridor, in the opposite direction Natasha was going.

"Forget them, chief, we gotta get out of here before we're trapped in here forever!" Fluey shouted.

Big D nodded, and took off running after the others. It wasn't easy running, that was for sure. The ground was shaking hard, and rocks were falling everywhere.

"How close are we to the exit?" Multi asked.

"Nearly there," Natasha said. "Just keep goink! Don't stop!"

The group kept running, and sure enough, the exit was right up ahead. Suddenly, Fluey tripped over a crack in the floor, and crash landed right on his stomach. He managed to pull himself up, but rocks were falling right at him. He dove out of the way to avoid getting clobbered, but his leg ended up caught in the miniature avalanche, and he couldn't pull it out. Big D saw this, and ran back to help him.

"Hang on, I'll get you out of this in no time," he said.

"No time is exactly how long we have, chief!" Fluey shouted, trying in vain to pull his leg out of the rubble. Big D managed to move enough rocks out of the way in order for Fluey to pull his leg out.

"Does your leg hurt?" Big D asked.

"Only at the ankle," Fluey said. "But I think I can still run."

"All right then."

Big D and Fluey began running as fast as they could to reach the exit. It wasn't easy. Fluey's ankle was throbbing with every step, and soon, he couldn't go any further. It simply just hurt to much. Big D positioned his grandson's arm over his shoulder to help him, when another mini avalanche of rocks came down. Big D pushed Fluey out of the way in the nick of time, but the chief ended up half buried in the rubble.

"Chief!" Fluey shouted. He limped over, and started to push the huge rocks away.

"Fluid, don't waste time with me," Big D said. "Get out of here! I'll be able to manage to get myself out of here."

"Hey, you guys, what's the hold up?" Mike asked, running over.

"Slight mishap," Big D said. "Don't worry about me, Rogers. I'll be fine."

"Quick, Mike!" Fluey shouted. "Help me move these rocks!"

"No, you'll never make it out in time if you did that," Big D said. "Don't worry, I can handle this one on my own. Rogers, help Fluid get out of here. He's hurt, and can't run any longer."

"But chief, I can't leave ya hanging like this!" Fluey shouted.

"Young man, I'll be _fine_!" Big D shouted. "Now don't waste any more time about me. Get out of here now! And that's an order!"

"But . . . . ." Fluey started.

"You heard the man!" Mike shouted, lifting Fluey off the ground. "That's an order!"

"Okay, okay!" Fluey shouted. "But hurry, chief! Please!"

Big D just nodded, and worked on getting himself free while Mike raced for the entrance. Fluey kept his eyes on the chief. He saw Big D manage to pull himself out of the rubble, but that was about it. He lost sight of him after Mike rounded a corner. From there, they were almost to the front of the tunnel.

"Hurry, you guys, hurry!" Coiley shouted at them.

Rocks were falling faster now. Mike ran out not a second too soon. The second he and Fluey got out of there, several huge boulders fell, blocking the entrance of the tunnel completely. There was no getting in, and no getting out.

"CHIEF!" Fluey shrieked. He jumped out of Mike's grip, limped over to the tunnel entrance as fast as possible, and began to try to move the boulders.

"Don't just stand there gaping, you guys!" he yelled. "_Help_ me! The chief's still in there!"

"Fluey, you know you'll never be able to move those boulders by yourself," Coiley said.

"And even if we helped, we'd never be able to do it, either," Phyllis said.

"I vill call specialists," Natasha said, and she ran off to find a phone or something.

It took about fifteen minutes, but it seemed more like five hours to gang as the rescue team arrived. They told our heroes to stay back while they assessed the situation. The others waited, nervously. It was about all they could do. Finally, one of the rescuers walked over to the group.

"Hokay, here is story," he said. "Ve do vhat ve can, but ve can't promise miracle."

"It's that bad?" Phyllis asked, gripping Fluey's hand, tightly.

"Ehhh, mebbee yes, mebbee no," the rescuer said, shrugging. "Hard to tell now. Like I say, ve do vhatever ve can do. Ve start diggink right avay."

"How long do you think it'll take to get in there?" Multi asked.

"Hard to say," the rescuer said. "Could be days, veeks, months . . . . ."

"Oh boy . . . . ." Fluey groaned.

"Vay it looks now," the rescuer went on, "I vouldn't get hopes up. Even if ve did find anybody in there, by time ve reach them, it might be too late. If it isn't too late already, I mean. But ve vill try if you vant us to. But it is not wery likely any of the three of them are still alive in there. Choice is yours, lady."

"I see," Phyllis said. Then she turned to Fluey. "Well, what do you say, Fluey? You want to have them go ahead and dig?"

"Yes!" Fluey shouted, without hesitation. "Do it!"

"Hokay," the rescuer said, shrugging. "Ve dig. But try not to get hopes up too high, kid."

And with that, the rescue workers got to work. Right away, the group could tell this was going to be a long process.

"You should get back home," Natasha said. "I stay here and I call you vith updates, yes?"

"Good idea," Phyllis said. "There won't be much for us to do around here, anyway."

Fluey merely nodded. He figured if he protest, he'd be out numbered, and it was probably easier to just go along with the others for the time being. Besides, his ankle was killing him. Multi and Coiley helped him over to the Impossi-Jet, and then climbed in themselves. Skittles jumped into the backseat with Fluey, and cuddled up against him.

"Hang in there, Fluey," Coiley said. "You just never know what could happen."

"I know," Fluey said, with a sigh. "I just hope they find Big D in there. He _has_ to still be alive. He just _has_ to!"

Multi and Coiley didn't respond. They didn't want to say anything that would get Fluey's hopes up, only to have them dashed by bad news. And they knew Fluey was going to need all the support he could get about now. Having lost his adopted parents, _and_ his biological parents, they knew Fluey just wouldn't be able to cope with another loss.


	18. Home Again

A week passed since the Impossibles and their friends returned from Russia. Fluey had spent most of it on the couch in the den at Big D's house, watching TV with his foot propped up, since he sprained his ankle pretty badly. It was actually close to being broken, and Dr. Phelps had told him to stay off it for six weeks, and he also put his ankle in a cast, just for precaution.

"Why haven't we heard anything yet?" he complained.

"Give them time," Phyllis said. "You heard what they said. It could take awhile."

"I know, I know. But I can't stand waiting like this!"

Phyllis shrugged. It was about all she could do. She went into the kitchen to make dinner when the phone rang. She immediately grabbed it.

"Hello?" she said. "Yes . . . . . okay . . . . . uh huh. I see. Thank you."

Phyllis hung up the phone, and sighed. Then she started back for the kitchen.

"What do you want for dinner, Fluey?" she asked.

"Who was on the phone?" Fluey asked.

"What do you say we order in tonight? I could go for Chinese myself . . . . ."

"Phyllis, who was on the phone?"

"Or if you're not in the mood for Chinese, what do you say we order pizza?"

"Phyllis! For crying out loud, already, _who_ was on the phone?!"

"Natasha in Russia."

"Does she have any news? Tell me, tell me!"

"They found Benedict and Tracker. Tracker was dead when they found him. They couldn't tell if it was the blow to the head that did him in, or if he died from asphyxiation, considering he was buried. Benedict was still alive, but both his legs had been crushed beyond repair. They said something about sending him back here for treatment."

"What about the chief?"

"They haven't found him yet."

"Why not? He should've been close to the entrance! That's when I last saw him!"

"I know, but they searched that area, and they couldn't find him there. But they're still looking."

Fluey just nodded. But the waiting was driving him bananas.

The weeks were going by at practically a snail's pace. There wasn't any news about the progress of the mine rescuers, and Fluey's hope about Big D being found alive was fading. To make matters worse, reporters were practically banging down the door to the Dawson household, trying to get an interview from Fluey over what had happened with the Russian Underground. The phone was ringing off the hook, too. Phyllis only answered it because any call could have been from Russia. But most of the phone calls were from those nosy reporters.

"Look, we want to know what happened," one reporter said. "It'll make _Showbiz Magazine_'s cover for sure!"

"I'm sorry, but Mr. McAlister is _not_ granting interviews today," Phyllis said, firmly. "He's still trying to recover from the ordeal, and does _not_ need anyone asking him questions. Good day."

It was the same answer Phyllis had been giving for two weeks now. Both Fluey and Phyllis were being driven out of their skulls. One morning, while Phyllis was in the kitchen fixing breakfast, the phone rang.

"If that's another reporter . . . . ." she grumbled, picking up the phone. "Hello? Oh, hi, Dr. Phelps. Hanging in there. Yeah, the anxiety's just about ready to kill him. I'm fine, but I'm about ready to kill these stupid reporters if they don't go away soon. Mostly the ones from these entertainment trades are bugging us. No, he doesn't really want to talk about it. So what's going on over there? Oh? Uh huh . . . . . _really?!_ Oh geez . . . . . after all that's happened . . . . . well, I don't know if he exactly deserved _this_ . . . . okay then. I don't know. I can't handle the responsibilities. I'm stressing out big time over here, and I don't think I oughta be in the office right now. Can't you take it over for right now? Okay. Yeah. Tell Mike and Reggie they can play chief too if you can't do it yourself. I appreciate it. Thanks. Bye."

"Now what?" Fluey asked, limping into the kitchen.

"That was Dr. Phelps," Phyllis said. "He wanted to know when I was coming back to the office to be 'Lady Chief.' I'm not going to be the chief. Not ever. I can't take it."

"Was that all?"

"No, that wasn't all. They . . . . they finally got Benedict back here. Unfortunately, the trip from Russia to here wasn't a very pleasant experience."

"What do you mean?"

"Benedict got his just desserts. DOA."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not kidding. The people that airlifted him from Russia said he was in excruciating pain, but they didn't have anything to sedate Benedict with. Finally, he passed out. The pilot thought he just fainted from the pain, and they didn't realize Benedict was dead until they landed on the HQ helicopter pad."

"Geez . . . . ."

That was all Fluey had to say. Even though Benedict had betrayed the agency, he wasn't sure if he actually deserved to die.

By the end of the sixth week after their return, the phone rang. Phyllis grabbed it, hoping it wasn't yet _another_ reporter.

"Hello?" she said. "Yes . . . . . yes . . . . oh no . . . . . . oh boy . . . . okay. Thanks, bye."

Phyllis hung up the phone, leaned on the counter, and covered her eyes. She was glad Fluey wasn't home. He was at HQ getting the cast taken off his ankle. That would give her some time to prepare. An hour later, Fluey came back home, and immediately flopped into a chair in the front hall. Multi and Coiley came in behind him.

"I'm exhausted," he said. "Doc Phelps had to send me over to St. Mercy's to take the cast off because Multi, Coiley, and I were being mobbed by the press. They won't give up, and I am _not_ talking about it!"

"It's a media circus out there," Coiley said. "What's new here, Phyllis? Anything?"

"Yeah . . . . ." Phyllis said, clearing her throat. Then she started twirling her hair. Immediately, Fluey grew nervous, and he stood up.

"What is it?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"Natasha called," Phyllis said, still twirling her hair. "She had news."

"What was it?" Multi asked.

"The rescuers started another cave in while they were looking for Big D," Phyllis said. "In fact, they accidentally started at least three."

"Have they found him?" Fluey asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Phyllis said. "And . . . . . they're calling off the search."

"What?!" Fluey shouted. "Why?!"

"Because it's not safe to search any more," Phyllis said. "They lost six rescuers already because of these cave ins they've started. And . . . . they said if they haven't found him by now, they probably never will. I hate to say this, Fluey, but I agree with them. It's been six weeks, and the chief can't possibly still be alive in that cave, anyway."

"No . . . ." Fluey replied, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, it's not true . . . . . it just can't be true!"

And with that, Fluey suddenly passed out. Multi and Coiley caught him before he could hit the floor.

"Whoa!" Coiley shouted.

"I knew he wasn't going to take that well," Phyllis said. "Come on, boys, help me get him upstairs."

"Right," Multi said, and the three of them helped Phyllis take Fluey to his bedroom.

Hours later, Fluey started coming to. He opened his eyes slowly, and found he was lying in bed. Phyllis was sitting next to him, sponging his forehead with a cold washcloth.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked, the minute she saw he was awake.

"Big D . . . . he . . . . he isn't really . . . . ." Fluey stammered.

"I don't know. But we've got to be realistic here. It's been six weeks, and Big D was trapped in that cave without food and water for that long. I know people can survive for months without food, but they can only go so long without water."

"No . . . . no, he can't be gone! Why'd they just drop the search like that? Shouldn't they keep going until they . . . . ."

"Fluey, it's too dangerous. I told you already, the rescuers have started a series of cave ins while they were digging, and they've lost six of them already."

"Well, since the cast is off my ankle now, I could always take my transformer, and . . . . ."

"Fluey, I absolutely forbid it! You've got to understand this. I know it's hard on you, but you just have to accept it. Big D is gone."

"But what if he _isn't_?!"

"Fluey, deny it all you want. But do you honestly think he can still be alive?"

Fluey stopped for a moment, and thought this over, hard. Phyllis had a point. Fluey didn't want to admit it, but she was right. He knew he was only fooling himself. He also knew Big D wouldn't live forever. He knew this day would come eventually. He just wasn't ready for it. He hung his head, and sighed, not even bothering to answer Phyllis's question. But Phyllis knew what he was thinking.

"I don't expect you to get over this overnight," she said. "It will probably be awhile before you recover from this . . . . and even then, you never fully recover."

"Yeah, well . . . ." Fluey said. "I kinda think I want to be alone for awhile, okay?"

"Sure. Hang in there. It'll be all right."

Fluey nodded, and Phyllis left the room. Once he was sure she was gone, he lost it. He threw himself face first onto the bed, and just let the floodgates open.

For three days straight, Fluey wouldn't leave his bedroom, and he had even locked the door from the inside. He wasn't going to open it for anything.

"Come on, Fluey, open the door," Phyllis said, calmly. "Don't you want some breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," Fluey said, from inside his room.

"Okay," Phyllis said, leaving the breakfast tray by the door, anyway. "I'll just leave it out here and come get it in a couple of hours."

Fluey didn't respond. Phyllis just sighed, and went back downstairs.

Later in the day, Multi, Coiley, and Danalleah dropped by. They were wondering how Fluey was doing.

"I wish I could say he was fine, but I can't," Phyllis sighed. "He won't even open the door."

"I'm sure he'll open it once he finds out Danalleah came to see him," Coiley said.

Phyllis nodded. She had to go retrieve the breakfast tray, anyway. The foursome walked upstairs, and Phyllis knocked on the door.

"Go away!" Fluey yelled.

"Fluey, it's us," Multi said. "Can we come in?"

"No!" Fluey shouted.

"Come on, Fluey, you can't stay in there forever," Coiley said.

"Yes I can!" Fluey yelled.

"Boy, he's taking this harder than I thought," Coiley said.

"Let me try," Danalleah said. Then she started knocking on the door, gently. "Fluey? It's Danalleah. Can I please come in?"

"Dani . . . . ." Fluey said, and then there was a bit of silence. Coiley and Multi figured he was thinking it over.

"Come on, don't you want to talk?" Danalleah tried. "You might feel better if you do, you know."

"No!" Fluey shouted. "No, I don't want to talk about it! Just go away!"

"Come on, Fluey," Coiley said, groaning.

"Please!" Fluey shouted. The others noticed his voice cracked a little. "Just leave me alone!"

"Come on, guys," Phyllis said. "I think he still needs some time."

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Danalleah asked.

"I guess only time will tell," Multi said, with a shrug.

Another week went by without any changes. Phyllis was getting pretty fed up with Fluey. He still wouldn't leave the bedroom and he still wouldn't let anyone in.

One rainy night, Fluey left his bedroom, finally. He went downstairs as quietly as he could, so his sister wouldn't hear him. Phyllis was too preoccupied in the kitchen, anyway. Fluey opened the front door, and walked out. Then, he began walking down the street, not really knowing where he was going. He just felt like he had to get away from everything right now. He couldn't take much more.

Fluey spent hours wandering aimlessly through Megatropolis. By now, the rain was practically pouring down in buckets, and he was soaked. His wanderings took him to the cemetery, one of his least favorite places. But somehow, he felt he had to go there. He walked through the gates, and looked around. A clap of thunder rolled, and a flash of lightning lit up the dark sky. In that flash, Fluey saw a headstone:

ARNOLD BENEDICT

Fluey glared hard at the headstone, and just stared at it, clenching his fists.

"I hope you're satisfied," he growled at the headstone. "This is all your fault! You had to go and betray Big D! You betrayed the entire agency, and you would've betrayed the world if you had the chance! Oooh, if you weren't already dead, Benedict, I'd . . . . I'd . . . . ."

Fluey let out a scream, and punched the headstone as hard as he could. Unfortunately, even though he _was_ a superhero, he wasn't Superman, and his fist didn't even cause a crack in the headstone. Fluey let out a shriek of pain after his hand smashed against the stone. Then he began wiggling his fingers to make sure he hadn't broken any bones in his hand. Then he sighed, and went over to another grave he knew well. It was a double grave, where his adopted parents had been buried. He stared at it long and hard, and then threw himself over the headstone.

"This isn't fair!" he screamed. "Why me?! Why do these things have to happen to me?! First my adopted parents, then my real parents, now Big D . . . . . it just isn't fair!"

Fluey was in a bad case of hysterics about now. He just leaned over his adopted parents' headstone, and just cried his heart out. It was a bit out of character for him, but he just couldn't take it any longer. He was only thankful no one was around. Or at least, he _thought_ no one was around. He was still wallowing in self-pity when he suddenly felt someone grab his arms, and pull him up, away from the headstone. Fluey wrenched himself away, but this person grabbed his wrist.

"Let me go!" he screamed, trying to pull away. He yanked his arm away as hard as he could. He was able to get out of this stranger's grip, but he ended up losing his footing, and he crash landed right in a pile of mud. He saw the stranger coming toward him again, and he picked up a handful of mud and threw it at this guy, but he ended up missing by a mile (he was too upset to concentrate on his aim).

The stranger then pulled Fluey to his feet, and Fluey again tried to fight him off.

"Calm down," the stranger said. "Just calm down."

Fluey wasn't listening, and he sure wasn't going to calm down any time soon. He let out a scream, and tried to push himself away from this stranger. He stopped writhing around once he felt the stranger wrap his arms around his shoulders. He felt the stranger's hand against the back of his head, pushing it gently down toward the stranger's shoulder. The stranger then started stroking his hair gently. Fluey couldn't explain it, but this calmed him down.

"That's better," the stranger said. "It's all right now. Everything is going to be fine now."

"Chief?" Fluey said, suddenly. He pulled away from the stranger for a moment, and got a good look at him. He couldn't see him very well in the dark, until another flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Fluey clearly saw Big D standing before him. He was so startled, he let out a scream, slipped, and crashed to the ground.

"But . . . . but . . . . but how can it . . . . . how can you . . . . ." he stammered. "Am . . . . . am I seeing things, or . . . . ."

"Take it easy there," another voice said. Fluey turned and saw the ghost of his biological father, Jack Dawson, behind him.

"You're gonna give yourself a heart attack!" Jack shouted, pulling Fluey to his feet.

"But . . . . . but . . . ." Fluey said.

"Just calm down, Fluid, let me explain," Big D said.

"But they said they were gonna give up the search!" Fluey shouted. "Wait a minute . . . . chief . . . . you're not really here, are you? You're . . . . you're just a ghost . . . . like Dad is!"

"He's not a ghost, Fluey," Jack said. "Just hear him out. He can explain. So start explaining, Pops."

"Fluid, I know this may come as a complete shock to you," Big D said. "But I _am_ alive. Though I know I wouldn't have made it out of there without your father."

"What?" Fluey asked, confused.

"I was lucky enough to avoid being buried by those falling rocks," Big D said. "But I was still trapped inside with no way out. That's when Jackson showed up. He said he could help me find a way out of the cave in."

"That's right," Jack said. "You know I watch over you, Fluey. I knew what was going on. And I knew it wasn't Pop's time yet. The Man Upstairs told me so. So he sent me down to get him out of that cave in, and to make sure he got back here in one piece."

"If you can call it that," Big D said. Fluey then noticed Big D was walking with a slight limp, and he was also bruised and his clothes were torn. "I only got back to town an hour ago."

"Do Phyllis and the others know?" Fluey asked.

"Yes," Big D said. "The first place I went was back to the house, and Coil and Multi were there, along with the girls. Phyllis had called them when she found you missing. You've nearly given her a heart attack, you know. She's worried sick about you right now. Come on. I think it's time we head home."

Fluey agreed to that, and Big D started leading him over to his car. Fluey looked over his shoulder to see if his father was still around, but he had disappeared. Big D noticed, and he sighed.

"That's Jackson all over," he said. "Always on the go."

Fluey didn't answer. His head was still reeling.

It didn't take long before Big D and Fluey returned home. The others were waiting for them, and were greatly relieved when they saw both Big D and Fluey coming up the front steps.

"Oh thank goodness!" Phyllis shouted. "Look at you, you're soaked to the bone!"

"Are you all right, Fluey?" Multi asked. "We were practically going crazy!"

"Where was he, chief?" Danalleah asked.

"Of all places, the graveyard," Big D replied.

"I don't know why," Fluey said, shrugging.

"Well, I'm not going to worry about that," Phyllis said. "Get upstairs right now, and get out of those wet clothes and into bed before you catch your death of cold!"

"Yes, Mother," Fluey said, teasingly, but he went upstairs anyway. Right about now, the thought of hitting the sack seemed good to him. He was exhausted.

"You should've seen it when Big D showed up here, Fluey," Coiley said once Fluey was settled.

"Yeah, we all thought we were cracking up," Multi said. "But then he explained he managed to find a way out with a little help, but he wouldn't tell us who helped him."

"Yeah, he said we'd never believe it, even if he told us," Coiley said.

"All right, boys," Big D said, coming into the room. "It's been a long day . . . . ."

"Try a long couple of weeks, chief!" Fluey shouted.

"Smart aleck," Big D mumbled under his breath. Then he cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think we could all benefit from some rest and quiet."

"I'm with you on that, chief," Coiley said. "See you later, Fluey."

And with that, Coiley and Multi left. Once they were out the front door, Big D sighed, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Fluid, I think we need to have a little talk," he said.

"Okay," Fluey said.

"Phyllis told me about your reaction to the cave in, and I was also thinking about how you reacted when I said I wasn't coming back to Megatropolis. I know you don't want to think about this right now, but you have _got_ to understand that I'm not going to be around forever."

"I know, chief, I know. I don't even know _why_ I reacted like that . . . . . I guess it's just because I lost so many people in my life . . . . . I didn't think I could cope."

"I'm aware of that. Death isn't very pleasant, but it _is_ a fact that we just can't ignore. And you never know when it's going to happen. But when your number comes up, that's it. I don't like thinking about that, but ever since we found out you're my grandson, I can't help thinking about it every time I send you boys out on an assignment. I know you are very capable of handling a dire situation on your own, but it doesn't make it any easier. You may not realize this, young man, but you and your sister are everything in the world to me. You think you wouldn't be able to stand it if anything happened to me, that would be _nothing_ compared to how _I'd_ react if I lost either of you."

"Knowing you, chief, you'd probably want to kill the person who put you through that kind of pain. But I don't think we should think about that sort of thing right now. I think we should just be grateful we're here now, and everything's on it's way back to normal. Normal for us, anyway."

Big D had to stifle a laugh over that one. He stood up, brushed Fluey's bangs away from his face for a moment, and left the room, turning out the light behind him. Another adventure was over, and, as Fluey said, everything was on it's way back to normal. The chief wouldn't have it any other way.

The End


End file.
